


Tuyo

by milliondollarkitten



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Ass Play, Ass to Mouth, Blood and Violence, Bloodplay, Breathplay, Canon-Typical Violence, Cheating, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Gunplay, Heartbreak, Height Differences, I hope y'all like this, Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Reader has a big secret, Reader is a badass DEA agent, Requited Unrequited Love, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Smut, Some Soft Javi, Stubborn Reader, Teasing, be kind english isn’t my first language, but the translations are right after, kinda slow burn... but not quite, some words are in spanish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:00:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29212308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milliondollarkitten/pseuds/milliondollarkitten
Summary: It’s 1988 and after fighting crime and drug trafficking in Mexico for two years, your transfer to Bogotá arrives at the very best moment after recent events involving you and the Cartel de Guadalajara.  However, being the only woman and the youngest of the DEA at the Embassy has it’s pros… and cons.And when your first meeting with Javier Peña turns out worse than you had imagined, the next one isn’t better and soon you find yourself wrapped in bad decisions and weird feelings. All of this while the war against Pablo Escobar gets worse every day.
Relationships: Javier Peña/Original Female Character(s), Javier Peña/Reader, Javier Peña/You
Comments: 16
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Before you start reading I just want to say a few things :)
> 
> English is not my first language (I'm Chilean) and everyday I'm learning more and more. Though I can read quite well, it's about the writing that's... well, it's a little hard for me. I'm doing my best here so if you find grammar mistakes feel free to point them, I'll gladly accept what's going to help me.
> 
> It's my first time writing something after a long time and something I would like to clarify it's that the timeline won't be exactly the same, although several events will be carried out in the same way in which they were in the show, not all of them will be like this speaking about time, people, places, etc., and they may take a different course. 
> 
> Please read the tags!!

“Focus, focus, focus.”

You repeat yourself for the fifth time (in 30 minutes) and your eyes go down to your shaking hands that holds the red lipstick you just spread across your lips.

It’s not your first time going undercover, though you can’t help but feel all your worries take over your body.

After all, you’ve only been in Colombia for two weeks.

You’ve never been this anxious, not even fresh out of the academy. Or that time when they told you you’ll be going to Mexico to fight against the narcos that were beginning to make their way through the country.

No, you were looking forward to that moment, _eager._ And what you’re feeling right now is completely different.

You swear under your breath and close your eyes, inhaling and exhaling a couple of times until you can find that very same confidence with which you walked through the door of the Embassy this morning, willing to do whatever it takes to bring Escobar down.

When you open your eyes again the same spark that was there when you look into the Mexico’s Ambassador when he told you about your transfer, it’s there. Sheer _excitement._ But still feeling anxious because there’s no way you can’t feel a little bit nervous about this, however you don’t let them control you.

Why would you?

You went against what your parents believe was best and wanted for you, only to dedicate your life to the war against the drug abuse and trafficking, to end those bastards that are getting rich and rich at every passing minute. You left your country behind to hunt down those very same bastards in Mexico only for you to leave to another country and hunt down the worst of them all.

And even then, you never let your worries get the worst of you. Why now?

You even went after those fucking narcos who killed Kiki. Blinded by rage, you weren’t able to think about the consequences, much less did you have time to feel nervous.

With all new conviction, you whisper an “I can do this” to yourself in the mirror and leave the lipstick forgotten in the first drawer of your desk.

The Embassy is almost empty, except for the whispering down the hall where Carrillo and his crew are going through the last details about tonight’s mission.

You look up when you hear the sounds of footsteps approaching and your gaze meet the tall figure of your partner, who greets you with a nod and the most subtle smile.

“You ready?” The question almost makes you laugh, but you swallow it.

Your hands are the most interesting thing right now but soon you look back at him, and all he can see in your eyes is _confidence._ Something that makes him widely smile this time.

The first time he saw you, you were at the airport gates fresh out of the airplane from Mexico, he thought it was a bad joke. He has been told that a new partner from the DEA will arrive in Colombia to help them, _one of the best in Mexico._ Of course, Steve Murphy was expecting a veteran, a man with a few years on his back and someone who could guide them. He definitely was not expecting a child with a lost look on her face.

But soon enough he realized that his assumption was wrong and what his superiors had said up there in Mexico was well-grounded. _You are one of the best._ And as days went by, Steve has confirmed it. You’ve been in Colombia two weeks and he has seen you in action a couple of times, which had left him speechless. You’re brave and strong and he knows exactly why.

It’s not the sixties anymore and the world is changing, leaving behind that “machismo”. Fuck, even he has made some dubious comments and he’s full of regret now. Every day men around the Embassy talk about the receptionists and even the Ambassador herself, _it’s disgusting._

That’s why he knows that, being a woman, you had to try harder to achieve what you have, to get where you are and make everyone respect you. But somehow, he also knows that behind the confidence there’s a woman who could easily fall apart. However, Steve has never made you feel that way and never will. He respects you so much to make you go through that.

Carrillo’s voice calling out your last name and Agent Murphy’s makes you turn your head to the place where he’s standing. At the door with his hands behind his back.

“Let’s catch that _hijo de puta_.” He brazenly gazes at you, from head to toe, and nods.

You’re wearing a red dress, which can rarely be called that way due to the lack of fabric, hardly covering the essential parts or your body and heels that makes you look taller.

He’s the one who pick it up for you.

And despite the fact that you’re uncomfortable, since you usually go to clubs a little less naked, you know you can’t disagree with him because tonight is about catching one of the many men of Escobar and the only way to do it is _throwing yourself onto his arms._

* * *

The ride is short and your body’s lurking.

Murphy is with three other men while he adjusts his tactic vest. On the other hand, Carrillo is by your side handing you over a Walkie-Talkie, which you secure in your thighs right next to your gun, and he’s giving you the same orders he gave you before at the Embassy.

“You can do it. Just walk straight to the bar and you would see him in a corner with a few of his women,” Steve is right by your side giving you a pat on the shoulder. “You. Can. Do. This. They didn’t just send a DEA Agent; they send us _the best one in Mexico_.”

You blush and next thing you know, you want to throw up.

_If only he knew._

You avoid his gaze and a fluff on your dress it’s more interesting. It’s not like you can say hello and explain to him everything that happened in Mexico without him thinking you’re a disgrace to the DEA and don’t deserve a part in this war.

After a long breath you say goodbye with a nod and start your way down the alley, knowing very well that Steve and Carrillo with his men are just a few blocks behind waiting. Without a doubt they’ll come for you at any possible danger.

Loud music and neon lights make you close your eyes before you arrive at the entrance. _From now on you’re not DEA, you’re just an American girl looking for some fun._

A flirty smile and a lock of hair in your index finger while you’re looking right into the guard eyes. He frowns before you’re allowed to pass. Once hot bodies and high temperature scorch you, you work your way straight to the bar as Steve has told you. Your hips bounce at the rhythm of the music drawing the male attention around you, it’s a nice little ego boost.

You’re thankful for those acting classes you took in High School.

Confusion and innocence are clear in your features, and soon you lock eyes with him.

_Poison._

As Murphy had said that bastard is in his corner with two women by each side, a third one behind caressing his chest and, when you lost the vision of her hands under his shirt, you feel nauseous.

But you hide it with a flirty smile. And _that_ , along with your cleavage, draws his entire attention.

With a simple wave of his hand there’s a man walking to your direction and it takes all your strength to not pull your gun out and shoot the man right between his brows when he asks you if you want to have _fun._

Moving your hips, you let the dress show more of the bare skin of your legs and you swear you can feel the desire dancing in Poison’s eyes.

“¿Qué hace una niña como tú en un lugar así?” _What’s a little girl like you doing here?_ He asks once he push one of the women aside so you can sit on her place.

You look at the seat and back to Poison. Instead, with agile fingers you stroke his thigh before you sit, holding onto his neck and tugging the hair on his neck briefly.

His moan is disgusting.

“Mis amigas me dejaron plantada.” _My friends didn't show up._

You sound just like Steve trying to speak Spanish, it almost makes you laugh. You definitely don’t sound like that at all. After all, you spend two years learning the language and love every part of it.

You pout and realign on his lap, knowing damn well what’s going to do to him.

Next thing you know, Poison’s lips are on your neck whispering filthy things.

He can’t see the grin of triumph on your face. You got him right where you want, wrapped around your finger.

* * *

Carrillo is talking to one of his men who’s watching the club from outside when a familiar face shows up.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He wheezed throwing the Walkie-Talkie to the side and getting out of the car.

“You didn’t miss me at all?”

Javier Peña pretends to be disappointed but soon he’s showing his contained anger, shooting daggers in his and his partner Steve Murphy’s direction.

“Javi, what the heck?”

Steve is surprised.

Agent Peña has been suspended for two weeks after the fateful stakeout in a brothel, which ended with a police officer getting shot.

Last time Steve Murphy saw his partner, he was in his apartment with a glass of whiskey and a cigarette in his hands, disinterested about the info Steve wanted to give him.

“Is there a fucking reason why no one told me about this?”

“You’re suspended, Javier.” Carrillo is quick to remind him, as if it were something he forgot when it’s the only thing he can think about since that fucking day when the words left the Ambassador’s mouth.

“It’s Poison!” He raises his hands frustrated dropping them against his thighs after a few seconds. “You know perfectly well how I feel about this. I’ve tried to catch this fucking asshole for months! And when we finally have the opportunity… you don’t even dare to tell me.”

Javier’s mad.

No, he’s _furious._

“We couldn’t risk the operation.”

“Who’s inside?” Agent Peña ignores the comment and now is talking to Carrillo, who’s looking back at him with caution.

“We have an undercover Agent, so please don’t do something stupid.”

“Fuck.” His hands rests on his hips and just looks at the floor.

His partner can see the gears working inside his head and even before Javier can say anything, he knows exactly what’s going to happen. “Fuck it.”

No one can risk revealing the hideout, that’s why no one follows Peña when he’s right around the corner walking down the street towards the club.

Carrillo is quick to grab the Walkie-Talkie to warn his man about who’s going there and he wishes he could warn the DEA Agent inside who has no idea what is going to happen.

All what’s left to do is wait.

Wait in hopes that Javier Peña doesn’t ruin everything.

* * *

Surprise crossed your gaze for a brief moment because the next thing you do is lean to the warm of his body, although all what you want to do is walk away, so far away from this man.

“Where’s the fiesta?” Your index finger draws lazy circles on the exposed skin of his chest. The bastard is enjoying himself and he shows it by squeezing your ass.

“Cali.” It’s all he says before he’s getting lost in the scent of perfume and sweat on your neck. “We got an important meeting. Pero después…” _But after._ He brings your body closer to his and you can feel him getting hard under the fabric of his pants. “Bebé, podemos hacer lo que se nos plazca.” _We can do whatever we want._

You’re going to answer when one of the other sicarios leans and whisper something in Poison’s ear that sounds a lot like “Pablo” and “Cali”. Immediately after he moves away and says his goodbye, you know you must tell Carrillo about it.

Leaning and panting, you whisper. “Let me freshen up,” You announce, rubbing his neck softly. “so, when I get back, you’ll get a little gift to think of me until I can see you again.”

You subtly make him look between your thighs, opening them just enough so he can get a taste of what you’re saying. And, oh, of course he understands.

You make sure to move your hips more than usual knowing his eyes are looking directly to your ass, which is notorious thanks to the tight dress you’re wearing.

Once you’re out of his gaze and safe in the hallway, you take a moment to breath and pull yourself together. God, if you could strangle him you would’ve done it already.

You’re reaching the edge of your dress when you feel the presence of someone else there and immediately turn around to meet that person.

Pink neon lights crossed his features and yours. And the air it’s trapped around both of you when your gaze meets his. The first thing you notice are the lips, which are fleshy and ajar, under a mustache. And even you can’t quite see the color of his eyes, you know they’re darker than usual while they devour you and that makes you burn. The sloppy waves of his hair give off a carefree and sensual vibe; you have to admit he’s handsome.

A few seconds went by before he’s the one making the first move, dangerously coming nearer to you while you automatically move back.

Something about his intense gaze makes your heart stop beating for an instant, just to start pounding faster this time. A chill runs down your neck and bare back. Who’s this man?

When your back touch the wall you’re thankful for the cold that momentarily gives you a clear mind to think about what to say or how to act. You don’t understand what’s happening or why this -handsome- man seem to want to ripped your dress off and fuck you right there, when he hasn’t said a single word.

You don’t know if it’s the intensity in his eyes, the tight jeans showing off very precise parts of his body or his shirt with all three of its first buttons undone giving you a perfect look at his smooth skin. But there’s _something_ that it draws you like a magnet.

What’s wrong with you?

You’re acting like a teenager in front of the first boy that has ever pay attention to her.

You shake your head to clear the thoughts that are clouding your senses and you stare directly at some crack in the wall behind his figure before you tell your mouth to start working.

“¿Quién eres?” _Who are you?_

You’ve never seen this man before, though you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings beyond the people around Poison. Did he send him to keep an eye on you?

“¿Vienes con Veneno?” _Are you with Poison?_

_His voice._

It’s a perfect baritone and send shivers down your spine and straight to your core.

If it wasn’t for the wall behind you that keeps you balance, your legs long ago would’ve give in and now you’d be on your knees, flustered and embarrassed in front of a stranger.

At the mention of the sicario, you nod.

At that, the man closes all distance between your bodies. Clinging completely to yours, you feel faint and you even avoid breathing to prevent the contact between your breasts and the hardness of his chest. His breath, a mix of cigarettes and mint, crash against your face and in a single second your eyes are closed, your cheeks burning and the warmth in your belly descends more and more.

There’s something about feeling wanted after a long time that makes you suppress a moan. 

He’s a stranger.

In a club.

When you’re supposed to be undercover.

You curse yourself, but you make no effort in push him away.

It’s only when he’s tilting his face a little more and you can feel his hair tickling your forehead that you finally open your eyes, finding his eyes fixed on your lips.

By inertia, you open them giving him a permission he hasn’t even ask for. 

However, your heart skipped a beat a couple of times when his lips find your pulse on your neck. You almost feel ashamed at the thought that he can sense how nervous his presence makes you feel.

_Almost._

“¿Cuánto por la hora?” _How much for the hour?_

At first the question itself confuse you and you open your mouth to ask what does he mean by that, but you choked on the words when you adjust your vision behind him.

Panic crosses your features when you’re looking straight at Poison’s body walking through the dance floor and fading between all those sweaty bodies.

“Shit!” With all the strength you push out the man who was a huge distraction.

You don’t stop at his surprised look because you’re running through drunk and sweaty bodies trying to catch the motherfucking sicario before it’s too late. However, you’re not lucky enough because when the cold air of a midnight breeze in Bogotá crash against your face, you know you fucked up.

“Shit!”

Poison’s nowhere to be found.

You feel stupid and incompetent. How could you let him escape? You had one job and you let a stranger, who shows you a bit of attention, took away everything.

Nausea takes over your body and you fight the itching in your eyes, while you turn in the direction where Carrillo and Murphy’s are.

The pressure on your stomach and chest increases when you’re finally in the alley meeting Steve’s worried gaze. Your shoulders sink down when he’s asking what happened.

You walk by his side not bothering to give him a proper answer, right now you just want to throw the damn dress away, change into something more comfortable and drown the rage and sorrow with ice cream and a bad telenovela colombiana until this night is nothing more than a blurry memory.

You know that’s not going to happen.

Opening the car’s door, you pull out a windbreak you find in the passenger seat, well aware it belongs to Murphy, and try very hard to hide yourself inside. You feel stupid.

Fucking dress.

You fall backwards against the door and look into the sky; how could this happen?

Carrillo’s looking at you with caution and Steve is trying to hide his concern. They want to know what happened, but at the same time they want to give you all the space you need.

But there’s someone who has a lot to say.

“That fucking bastard ran away,” A familiar voice speaking somewhere there in the alley makes your eyes look down, throwing your mind back to earth. “but I have a lead. He was with a woman… a _lot_ of women, but there’s this one I bump into.” You can hear how frustrated and exhausted he is, and your eyes are wide with surprise when you recognize the voice.

“I don’t know her name but I remember her face. She’s probably from a _brothel_ near here, a few more minutes with her and we could’ve all the info we needed.” He swears and the nausea is back.

Circling the car with your arms around your chest, you really wish your ears are playing tricks. But deep down you know that’s not the case when you meet the very same eyes that devoured you minutes ago, this time surprise took over desire.

“What the…”

You want to punch him in the face.

Steve is calling your name.

“This is Javier Peña, our partner.”

All you ate during the day is now splattered all over the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you made it this far that means you understand at least something I wrote lol I'm glad you liked it, if you did ofc. 
> 
> As I said at the beginning, feel free to give me feedback or anything you think will help me and my writing. I'm excited to go through this story and that didn't happen to me in a long time.
> 
> I don't have a specific day to post and since I'm writing the chapters in Spanish first, it will take me a little longer to translate the chapter :( but I promise I'll try to post once or twice a week, it depends. Thanks & have a nice day, babies!! <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said before, English is not my first language so if you see any errors you're free to point them out to me. I'll gladly accept what's going to help me :) feedback is always welcome!!

Ever since that awful disaster that turned out to be your undercover op, you’ve had no contact with Poison nor with any other sicario linked to him or fucking Pablo Escobar.

And it’s been a month.

In all this time you’ve learned four things. The first one? The coffee’s awful at the Embassy and that’s why you get up 10 minutes early so you’ve time to walk 3 blocks to get one from your favorite coffee shop near your apartment. The second thing is that nobody knows about the mess you left behind in Mexico, though that’s something that keeps you up at nights you’re grateful the DEA is much like any other government department, always worried about its reputation. In third place are the sleepless nights, headaches and the little progress in the case; something you’re too familiar with but can’t get used to, filling you up with frustration.

The last one isn’t better. And is that Javier Peña _loathes you._

Or at least that’s what he has trying to demonstrate since he got back from his suspension the day after that disaster at the club.

That night you promised yourself not to cry, instead you drown your anger and sadness watching telenovelas and eating cereal until your stomach couldn’t take it anymore. That same night, after thinking about what Peña had said over and over again until 3:00 a.m., you promised yourself once more not to let those words had an effect on you anymore. After all, Murphy apologized to you on behalf of his partner, saying that he was frustrated and furious about his suspension; so you let it go, throwing _“How much for the hour?”_ to the back of your mind.

However, from time to time you find yourself going back to that night wishing you could’ve act in a different way. And sometimes -only sometimes- that you could have had more time with him.

Thinking about that leaves you ashamed and as fast as it came into your mind, you dismiss it.

Believe it or not, Peña didn’t ask for forgiveness. He’s not sorry about what he said and did that night, because the following day he didn’t even noticed you until Ambassador Noonan called all three of you into her office to discuss what had happened.

Murphy sat down between you and Peña, acting as a mediator for the entire hour of the meeting where the only ones who talked- screamed actually, were you two. And it all started for a simple comment from the Agent on your left.

_“If you were as good Agent as you say you are, you wouldn’t have let me seduced you.”_

_Those words were full of venom and you jump out of your seat._

_“Maybe if you were a good Agent you would’ve protected those cops and now you wouldn’t be suspended.”_

_Maybe you are right. If Agent Peña would had been a little more careful and have paid attention to his surroundings the ride to the hospital and the hostile meeting with the Ambassador and Minister of Justice would’ve been avoided. However, that’s a low blow because you know what it means having to carry things like that. Having to carry bad decisions, injured people and deaths._

_When you’re about to apologize, the Agent stands up so fast that it drags the chair backwards._

_Murphy immediately stands between you and his partner pushing him by his chest keeping him away from you. He knows Javier would never hurt a woman, but the tension is unbearable and it seems the Ambassador isn’t going to do something about it._

_Peña points a finger at you frowning and his eyes are as darker as that night at the club when he was looking at you with lust. There’s no room for lust anymore, if it was real what you saw in his eyes, now there’s only anger._

_“You think you can come here and pretend all of this belongs to you?” He growls and push Murphy’s hands away from his chest, just to have them right there again. “Breaking news, you’re nothing more than a burden they wanted to get rid of in Mexico.”_

How right he was.

Ever since that day you two had barely talked to each other, except when it’s strictly necessary and since you’re not doing field work because you’d decided to stay in the office with paperwork; that’s great news for Murphy. He seems to want to pull his hair off every time you and Peña are in the same room.

He never thought it’ll be this way. And being honest, neither did you.

Unfortunately, you have to see his face 24/7.

Being locked up in an office all day isn’t enough, so you have to see him in your own home.

Kind of.

Agent Peña lives at the same building as you, to be exactly in front of your apartment two doors to the left. And that’s due to the government’s program where they put all three of you in the same place. You’ve tried really hard not to cross paths with him and what it seemed to be a challenge you weren’t going to win, soon you found out he was doing exactly the same thing.

But despite wanting to slap him every time you see him, there’s this part of you that just wants to throw all of this away, make peace and do a better job. Both of you have the same goal anyways.

As if this were not enough, not more than a week ago Javier Peña came up with the most amazing idea. He began referring to you as _“muñeca”._

You have to admit, that was a shock. But only until you asked Steve what got into his partner and as ashamed as someone can be, and avoiding your gaze, he revealed to you the reason behind that endearment.

_“It’s just…” Steve isn’t sure if he should tell you. He doesn’t wanna make you feel bad or bring the World War III where he’ll certainly be in the middle. “You are aware that Noonan has a special treatment with you, right? As well as the Minister of Justice so… according to him you got them eating out of your hand.”_

_At that you furrow your brows, unable to pull the strings together and asking him through the plea in your face to be more specific._

_“My god,” He muttered to himself. “To him you’re nothing more than a doll, sent here to make us look nice and nothing else. To sit down, delight them with your charm and be used when it’s strictly necessary like…” His voice becomes a whisper until he stops talking. There’s no need to say it out loud, you know exactly that he’s referring to that night._

And at that moment all you wanted to do was to go to the kitchen, where his loud laugh came from, and knocked him down.

But you didn’t. That would’ve mean giving him the pleasure to fall into his game, something you _definitely_ weren’t willing to do. It wasn’t your goal at all when you first came down to Colombia and it wasn’t going to be now. So, you just nod at Steve and immersed yourself in the paperwork.

Internally you still wanted to punch him, but your mother used to tell you when you were younger that the best weapon against a person was to _ignore_. Then that was exactly what you did.

You ignore every time the word _muñeca_ came out of his mouth and damn if you don’t deserve a freaking award for how good you handled your first month in Colombia.

In Mexico wasn’t any better, but you managed to get under everyone’s skin and, deep down in your chest, you wish things could’ve ended better. But you were never coming back.

A sudden breeze- a result of the door being opened with force; makes you look up from the map you got in front of you at your desk. A lot of red circles decorate different places on the paper.

Javier Peña rushes into the office with Steve right behind him. Both of them going to their respective desks, though for a whole different reason. Your blonde partner goes for his gun and his leather jacket, while the other one just lights up a cigarette once he has found a pack in a drawer.

You frowned, confused. “What’s going on?”

Only then Murphy notices your presence and he’s apologizing.

“We got a lead on Poison.” He replies briefly, securing his gun at the waistband of his jeans. “You coming?”

Fuck yes.

All you’ve wanted for the past month has been to have at least the smallest lead on the asshole. You can’t miss this opportunity.

Before you can answer, a sarcastic laugh coming from Javier Peña cuts through the air.

“C’mon Murphy. I’m sure _muñeca_ has more important things to do, like sit at this office all the fucking day.”

_Like kicking your ass, for example._

Ignoring his ill temper, you stand up with your jacket in hand. You don’t even look at him, too resentful and furious for his attitude.

Steve, as always, apologizes with his characteristic gaze in your direction. But you’re too busy securing your gun in the holster on your thigh and counting to 10 so you can avoid throwing yourself at the Agent and slap the smirk out of his face.

Once you’re ready, for the first time in the day your eyes meet his and that’s too much to bear. You beg neither of them realize when you release the air you didn’t know you were holding as you walk in his direction. Immediately Peña stops moving and stands perfectly still, if it weren’t for the up and down of his chest you could easily confuse him as a statue.

As you pass by his side you make sure you brush your arm against his. “You think you can, for once in your life, get your head out of your ass and actually do your job?”

With nothing left to say, you storm out of there.

Once you’re out reach you give yourself the pleasure to smile.

You can hear Steve’s laugh making fun of his partner.

Fuck him.

* * *

Your lungs are burning and your throat is dry, but not even when your legs are weak you stop.

The lead Steve was talking about came from one of the many _informants_ Peña has.

It seems she told him Poison frequented the brothel and Fridays are his favorites. However, that very same informant warned the sicario because when you arrived it all went to hell.

And right now, you’re running up the street meandering through marketers and cars while you’re chasing two of the sicarios who managed to escape.

At this very moment you’re furious with Peña and his informant. The first one because he’s always with his head stuck in his ass and the second one… With the second one you can’t really be mad, no matter what is the reason to have such a job you know she’s doing it for survival. And because narcos pay better.

You hear the car horn before your stunned gaze goes to the left, throwing your hands exasperated into the air. Soon you’re looking in front of you again but you only can see one of the sicarios running from you, but you’ve no time to feel sorry at loosing the other one. Having one is better than having none of them so if you catch this one you can rest tonight.

Drops of sweat are dripping down your forehead and neck and you swiped them with the back of your hand. You’re not allowed to feel tired, not until you can catch the bastard.

The sicario turns in a corner that leads to an alley and you’re right behind him, you’re so close you can even taste the victory. But as soon as you turn in the alley, you stop abruptly. Your chest goes up and down as you breathe quickly, your lungs looking for oxygen and your heart beating harder than normal before the image in front of you.

There’s a gun pointed at you.

You instantly lift your hands in surrender.

“Just let me put my gun down.” You’re talking with caution, showing your gun and moving forward to carry out the action. Your eyes are fixed on the man that’s moving closer to keep you from doing something stupid.

He doesn’t know that in situations like these you’re all about stupid.

Your gun touches the ground but even before you can let it rest there, you’re getting up as fast as a lightning and shooting straight to this man’s leg.

You don’t know if it was his reflexes at feeling the impact or if it really was his intention, whatever the reason it won’t make any difference, but you can feel it before you can see it.

Is not an agonizing pain as the sicario in front of you is showing, curled up on the ground and with blood gushing out of the wound, but it hurts all the same. You don’t stop to check on your own wound, you know the bullet just grazed your arm and you’re not worried about that. Instead, you rush to the gun that’s besides the sicario and kick it away, securing your own gun in the holster on your thigh. You bend over and turn the man around, bringing his hands behind his back and disregarding his cry of pain.

You’re lifting him off the ground, one of your hands securing his hands at his back, and about to start doing your way to the brothel when you bump into an alarmed and sweaty Javier Peña.

His gaze travels from the sicario and his wound to your face and viceversa for a few seconds.

You sigh irritated.

Then his eyes are looking at the blood coming out of your wound.

“Are you okay?” He only takes a step and is halfway taking a second one before he stops with his hand raised in your direction, like he wants to make sure it’s nothing bad.

What surprises you the most is the concern in his voice and his features.

“It was just a touch.” You shrug, pushing the sicario forward. “This one’s worse.”

Peña releases a laugh that soon is forgotten when he clears his throat, not wanting you to know that something you had said amused him.

Steve’s voice through the walkie-talkie cuts the awkward silence and you can hear him asking what had happened and soon Peña is asking for an ambulance. But you’re almost sure he’s not doing it for the sicario, because his gaze doesn’t leave the place where the bullet grazed your arm.

Once your partner’s voice vanishes, silence is between you two again.

Peña nods before he’s turning around and as he starts doing his way down the brothel, you’re doing it too. The wounded man is walking besides you, one of your hands holding his hands behind his back, from time to time you can hear his whimpers.

Javier Peña keeps looking behind while you’re doing your way back, it’s only when you’re in front of the brothel that he walks away to talk to Murphy.

Two cops approach you to take the sicario away and you’re thanking them with a nod. As soon as you’re free of him, you make your way to the place where Steve and Peña are standing.

“One of them got away.” You announce when you’re standing next to them, moving your hand to your wound and examining it. It’s nothing a couple of stitches won’t fix. “I lost his trail.”

Peña’s brown eyes meet with yours for a split second before your attention shifts away from him to the ambulance that just arrived. When you look back at him, he’s looking to the ground while rubbing his chin, lost in his thoughts.

Shrugging and pointing to the ambulance you’re telling Murphy what you’re gonna do.

“You did a great job.” He gave you a tap on the shoulder and it makes you smile.

* * *

It was a long day.

After a couple of stitches and convincing your partners there was no need to go to the hospital, the trip back to the Embassy was awkward and silent.

Once there your first stop was the Ambassador’s office and when you were back to your office your partners weren’t there. But there was a note on your desk with Steve’s handwriting that said they were going to interrogate the two sicarios they caught.

You don’t even get mad at not being included, too tired to even feel tired. And, instead, you immersed yourself in the report that came with the action you made today. Your less favorite part, always.

By the time you finished everything, half an hour after your check-out time, Connie had already called you to ask how you were feeling. You assumed Steve told her what happened and you mentally thanked him. And before you could hang up, she was already inviting you to dinner urging you to dress pretty. You objected, of course, but deep down you were thankful for that invitation. Your mood wasn’t the best and you knew your stomach wouldn’t resist another night of cereal.

That’s why now you’re in front of your closet looking for something comfortable to wear so you can spend a nice evening with your friends.

Steve and Connie have been very nice with you since your first day in Colombia. Once Steve introduced you to his wife, you two fell into place. And since has been a difficult month, Connie has been there for you and viceversa.

Connie Murphy is and angel and you greatly appreciate her friendship.

You choose to wear a velvet lavender square-neck mini dress, deciding to combine it with your -lifetime friend- black leather jacket and heels of the same color. You feel comfortable and pretty, and your mood improves a little.

Heading out of your apartment you stop at the kitchen counter to grab your keys and the wine bottle you bought on your way home.

The stairs to the next floor, where the Murphy’s apartment is, are at the end of the hallway and to go there you need to pass in front of Peña’s apartment. After you made your way there, you stop a few seconds looking straight to his door, as if doing that you could see if he’s inside. Is he okay? He was… weird today.

However, you throw away any thoughts involving him and you go up the stairs.

Before you could knock on the door, Connie’s already opening it. Her blonde hair is in a bun and she’s wearing a tight dress and, of course, there’s a smile on her face.

She’s shouting your name and in a matter of seconds she’s hugging you. A smile is on your face as soon you realized she puts extra care on your bandaged arm.

“Please tell me you get him.” She frowns examining the part where the bandage is and then coming back to look at you.

“Oh, she did.”

Steve appears behind his wife with a beer in his hand and the other one in his jeans’ pocket.

“I bet you did.” The blonde woman laughs and grabs your jacket and the wine bottle, making you come inside.

You’re too familiar with their apartment, so you make your way to the living room with no problem. Sitting at the sofa followed by Steve, who sits in front of you.

“How did the interrogation go?”

He shrugs. “Nothing we don’t know already.”

You curse and stroke your forehead, exasperated.

“Sooner or later, we would catch him. In any case, we still have one left to interrogate.”

Steve wink and you roll your eyes.

“You two are going to forget about work tonight, my God.” Connie whines and is handing you a glass of wine. You thank her and take the glass to your lips, giving it a long sip, you need it and that makes your partner laugh.

Childishly you stick your tongue out at him while Connie sits next to you and starts talking about an old lady she was examining today, who wouldn’t stop complaining in Spanish and every time Connie tried to tell her she doesn’t understand she just started to speak loudly.

You’re halfway through your second glass of wine and your cheeks are a little more red than usual. Also, your tongue has loosened and right now you’re telling the Murphys how you managed to earn the respect of your partners at the Academy when you were one of the three women among a squad of men. And it was all thanks to something stupid you did, but then again, you always do something stupid in the worst situations.

The three of you are laughing and it doesn’t stop even when there’s a knock on the door. Steve apologizes and stands up to answer, and Connie rushes to your side.

She’s smiling shyly and with regret in his eyes, you don’t get it. “What’s happening?”

But another voice answers your question.

And Javier Peña appears in your line of sight.

You look at each other but he’s the one looking away first, his gaze going down to your bandaged arm and going a bit further down.

Suddenly, you feel too exposed.

Connie senses your discomfort and gets up to greet Peña, who only then comes out of the trance into which he fell and smiles at her.

You finish your glass of wine in one gulp and get up to the small bar next to the big windows that have a spectacular view of the night in Bogotá.

You grab a glass and pour yourself some whiskey, choosing to stay there feeling the breeze for a few minutes and preparing for a night that would probably be awkward.

Sighing you give your drink a sip and close your eyes. Crossing your injured arm across your chest you think about today’s events. It wasn’t _that_ bad after all.

You’re so immersed in your own thoughts that you don’t even feel que warm touch under the gauze covering your wound, and it’s only when that same touch is over the cloth that you open your eyes. The first thing you notice is the presence of someone very close to you. The second thing are knuckles caressing the bare skin of your arm, just a few centimeters under that same wound. But you’re not capable of looking up, you don’t know if you could take it. So, you just stay in your place and try to slow down your heartbeat.

You don’t get it.

You can’t understand how this man is able to make you feel this way with his mere presence or even with an innocent touch like that one. Your heart seems to react to it and all the blood in your system goes straight to your cheeks, exposing you.

His proximity reminds you of that night at the club. The way he cornered you with his body, how he looked at you with desire and longing, how his lips felt soft and warm against your sweaty neck, just above your pulse. But you also remember his words, his derogatory look that day at the Ambassador’s office and how he wanted you to stay as far away as possible from him and Colombia.

However, you’re not able to pull away.

Why?

When he stops, you slowly look up; moving through his chest and quietly smiling when your eyes meet with the first three buttons of his shirt undone. And when your eyes meet his, you force yourself to ignore the shiver running down your back and you convinced yourself that’s for the breeze coming from the open windows.

Javier Peña opens his mouth but no sound comes out. However, you patiently wait. And when it seems he finally found the words, Steve’s voice startles both of you and Javier and you are pulling away quickly.

Embarrassed and with your cheeks hot red you apologize when Steve is joining and slip away to the kitchen where Connie is.

And Connie _knows_ something’s going on.

“Don’t make me talk.” You whine taking another sip of your drink and resting your back against the counter next to her.

“I didn’t even ask.” She mocks, taking a bowl out of the oven.

You help her bringing the dishes and wine to the table, avoiding looking at where the two men are talking. But you feel his gaze on you when you turn around to go back to the kitchen.

You don’t understand what is happening.

He completely ignored you for an entire month, talking to you when was absolutely necessary and he didn’t even look at you then. He always pulled away when you got closer and when Murphy wasn’t around the office, he simply tried as hard as he could to not be there.

And suddenly it seems he forgot about everything. He’s now asking if you’re okay and making sure you actually are until you get help. He even walks up to touch you and tries to tell you something when you two are alone. Is this the same Javier Peña?

“You okay?”

Connie stops what she’s doing and get close to you, taking your face in his hands and looking worried into your eyes.

You sigh one, two and three times. “I-I don’t understand.”

“Who can really understand a man?”

Touché.

She announces dinner is ready and you’re begging her to sit next to you, and she gets it. But you still sit in front of him.

At first the talk is forced and it feels awkward, but once you let those tortuous thoughts behind and let yourself enjoy the night, everything changes.

Even though Connie was not a fan of talking about work at home, Steve and Javier end up telling funny stories of the days when it was just the two of them.

And you have fun.

You laugh and feel the weight you were carrying finally going away. Yes, it was a bad day at work but you won’t let that ruin your mood or a nice dinner with your friends. And Peña.

You have no idea if it’s your third or fourth glass of wine, you just feel a little dizzy and happy. But when you’re about to pour you more wine, you feel a kick on your calf. You quickly look up with widened eyes to find Javier Peña’s eyes fixed on you, concern clear in his gaze. You look back at the Murphys but none of them seems to have noticed what had happened, too busy flirting to pay attention.

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief, looking back in his direction. And against what he’s asking, you pour yourself more wine and raise your glass playing with it, mocking him. You hide your smile once the glass touches your lips, but before you can have a sip of that delicious liquid -which has helped you relax tonight- you feel again the kick that now becomes on his foot going up your leg and stopping at your thigh.

And you choke.

That certainly caught Connie and Steve’s attention, immediately asking if you’re okay. Embarrassed you nod and wipe the drops that managed to fall down your chin, and you glance at Javier, who’s hiding a smile looking at his dish.

_Cabrón._

From there, the rest of the evening is calm.

You don’t grab your glass again nor do you accept the shot of whiskey Steve offers you. Instead, you accept the coffee Connie brings to you while you two talk next to the window.

When you can’t avoid yawning, night’s over.

It’s 2:00 a.m. when you’re saying your goodbyes to the Murphys and thanking them for being great hosts, and the three of you agreed to repeat it next week.

You can’t see Peña, so you don’t say goodbye to him. Though you wouldn’t know how to do it.

So, you just make your way to your apartment.

You’re at the bottom step when you hear rushed footsteps coming down and by inertia you’re rushing too. Your heart starts beating fast, despite mentally repeating yourself that there’s no need to act that way. You’re a big girl, why can’t you act like one? You don’t even understand why you’re reacting like this. You hate it.

You take out the keys and unlock the door, suddenly feeling safe.

But before you can close your door, you hear Javier Peña’s voice.

 _“Muñeca.”_ He calls for your attention. “Tomorrow we’re going to interrogate the sicario from the hospital,” Your heart stops beating and you get your body out of your apartment, just a little bit so you can see him. Of course, he’s looking straight to the floor. “If you wanna be part of it.”

That’s all he says before opening his own door and getting lost inside.

It takes you a few seconds to understand his words and you repeat it over and over again in your mind until you can process them.

When you shut your door, you fall backwards against it to the floor and you let all the emotions you feel during the day out. And you start crying.


	3. Chapter 3

You don’t want to admit it, but your puffy eyes give away what you’ve done all night until you passed out on your bed. That’s exactly why you put extra care at hiding the bags under your eyes and bringing the swelling down with ice.

Fuck.

You can’t keep letting emotions take control over you and cloud your judgement.

You leave the melted ice on the sink and hold on to it hoping today will be a better day. Getting out of the kitchen you grab your keys and sunglasses, neither Peña nor Steve told you at what time they were going to the hospital, so you figure you’ve enough time to go for a coffee.

When you’re coming out of your apartment the first thing you notice is the presence of someone else in the hallway. She’s standing with her back facing you and is trying to pass unnoticed, but when her eyes meet yours, she knows it didn’t work. Her cheeks are red and she’s embarrassed, you notice by the way she lowers her head and shrugs, like she’s apologizing to you. She passes by your side, her brown long hair hiding her face from you, and soon is jogging out of there losing herself in the hot breeze of a Saturday morning in Bogotá.

You stand right there where you are for a few seconds, looking to the door where she came out.

Peña’s apartment.

You are used to it. It’s not the first time you run into one of the women Peña pays in exchange for information or simply for a night together. You’re not sure what’s the case right now. But you get it, kind of. It was a long and hard day at work for both you and your partners, so you can’t blame him for trying to bury that frustration fucking someone.

You definitely would’ve done that. If you were that kind of person.

But you’re not and, instead, you cried until your body couldn’t take it anymore.

Sighing you accommodate your aviators and start your way down the street.

It’s a hot day, just like any other day in Colombia, but you allow yourself enjoy the breeze that messes up your hair and brush against your naked and exposed arms. There’s a new gauze on your left arm and you wish you can take it away, but seeing the stitches doesn’t make you feel better; so you prefer to hide them down the fabric and just try to ignore the feeling not welcome at all that take its place in the pit of your stomach every time you remember yesterday’s events.

If you could only turn back time to yesterday’s morning and make things different, you will. You would’ve let Steve go after the sicarios, just like he screamed to you when you started to run behind them. He and Peña would’ve probably caught them both, and not just one like you did that also shot you. With determination you would’ve said no to Connie, kindly but also firmly, that way you would’ve prevented everything that happened that night. From the warmth of Peña’s touch to his gaze full of emotions and words unspoken, the slowly way his foot went up your leg until it stopped on your thigh and the brazenly way he smiled knowing very well what had caused in you, until that stupid nickname he has for you and how it sounds coming out of his lips.

You don’t understand what kind of game he’s playing, but you don’t want to find out.

He has been playing with your feelings and stability from the first day you met him. Aware or not you blame him anyways.

You can’t stand the confidence that emanates from him while he walks around the Embassy or that stupid way he has of placing his hands on his hips while resting all his weight on one leg. That stance steals your breath away and you’ve reprimanded yourself when you’ve noticed your gaze stops more than it should in the lower part of his body. You can’t stand to see him so sure of himself when he sits at the desk of one of the receptionists, one leg anchored to the floor while the other one is hanging from the desk with one of his hands caressing his thigh, all of his body leaning in the direction of the receptionist, whispering and smirking when she laughs at something he said. You can’t stand when you feel he’s staring at you and you raise your head to look at him only to find out that yes, he definitely is staring at you. Much less you can stand when he looks away immediately after being caught or how he doesn’t look back at you again. And you definitely can’t stand the longing in you, wishing he would look at you again, that his gaze would meet yours only to see, for a split-second, those deep brown eyes that sends shivers down your body.

You shake your head. _No,_ you can’t think like that.

Javier Peña loathes you. He loathes you. He does, doesn’t he?

“No estás aquí está mañana.” _You’re not here this morning._

The soft and melodious voice of Señora Rosa pulls you out of your thoughts, and you smile at her apologizing.

“Mi niña, Dios mío.” _My girl, oh my God_! Her scream startles you and some clients enjoying their coffee and a good breakfast, and you’re instinctively grabbing the gun hidden in the waistband of your jeans, your blouse barely hiding it. “¿Qué te pasó?” _What happened to you?_ She walks around the counter quickly and when is by your side, she’s lifting your arm with her calloused and old hands.

You sigh and close your eyes, allowing her caresses relax you. “Nada de qué preocuparse.” _Nothing to worry about._

You’ve never told Señora Rosa what exactly you do for a living, but you know she’s not a fool and all her years have brought her experience and cleverness. She does not ask anything, but her hand is on your cheek, brushing aside a lock of hair, and her thumb runs across your temple.

Her expression softens even more when she’s looking straight to the conflict in your eyes. “ _Mi niña hermosa._ ” _My beautiful girl._ She whispers, smiling and kissing your forehead. “Espero le hayas dado su merecido.” _I hope you gave him what he deserved._ That’s all she says before moving behind the counter again, bossing one of her children to prepare your coffee and a cake to sweeten your day.

Señora Rosa is a woman not exceeding 60 years old. Her dyed hair leaves in sight a few of gray hairs and the wrinkles under her eyes gives you a clue about everything she has been through her life. Her eyes, most of the time, are like steel but always good. And there’s always a smile on her face when she sees you entering the small cafeteria she opened a few years ago with some of her and her husband savings. Is quaint and cozy. She’s sweet and kind and friendly with you, always asking how are you doing, what are your plans for the day, if you eat, and before you can turn around and leave, she’s begging you to take care and come back safe in one piece. You’ve never told her what kind of job you do, but you assume that by accident she has seen your gun hidden at your back. But she never says something, she just asks you to take care and gives you a smile loaded with appreciation.

Señora Rosa and her family are the best people you’ve been able to meet in Colombia. They make you feel closer to your home, closer to your family and friends up there in the States. In the little time you’ve been here, you already feel part of them. You appreciate them and they appreciate you.

José, Señora Rosa’s younger son, with his cheeks hot red and long hair is smiling at you. “Café with two spoons of sugar and a bit of cream.” You’ll always love the way he speaks English, he has been learning the language since you got here and met them. You smile at him in gratitude and his cheeks, if it’s possible, become more red. He’s 17 and has a big crush on you.

Señora Rosa is back next to you, this time a paper bag in her hands with what you suppose is the cake. “Solo te voy a pedir una cosa, mi niña.” _I’m going to ask you just one thing, my girl._ She holds your free hand with one of hers and pat the back of it. “Cuídate, las cosas cada vez están peor y no soportaría saber que algo te ha ocurrido.” _Take care, things are getting worse every day and I couldn’t bear to hear something had happened to you._

Your heart squeezes at hearing those words and this time you’re the one raising your hand to her cheek. Your eyes transmitting all the affection you feel for her. “Te prometo que tendré cuidado.” _I promise you I’ll be careful. ~~I must protect y’all and Colombia.~~_

You give her two kisses on each cheek and a “thank you” in Spanish to her and José as a goodbye.

Señora Rosa doesn’t know this, but her worry and affection towards you have done a pretty good job slowing down the anxiety that was piling up inside you. Her warmth reminds you of the summer days at your parent’s house while you were resting near the pond with the sun above you and the delicious smell of fruit freshly harvested. You felt happy and worry-free, you were still a teenager, and that’s exactly how you feel every time you meet the woman’s kind gaze.

The way back to your building gets shorter this time. The cake is in the paper bag and you’re ready to enjoy it once back home from the hospital, you give your coffee one last sip just in time to see Javier Peña’s figure at the entrance of the building. His back is pressed against the railing on the last two steps of the doorway, with his aviators and a blue shirt with, of course, his first buttons undone. All of his concentration is in the cigarette he’s trying to light up and when he is putting away the lighter and giving it the first puff, he notices you coming closer.

For a single moment you think he’s whistling to you, but soon enough Steve’s head shows up in the doorway and Peña points with his head in your direction.

Steve yells your name.

“What’s the matter?” You frown when you’re in front of them, ignoring your brown-haired partner.

“I’ve been yelling outside your apartment for ten minutes.” Steve explains, annoyed. “I thought something had happened to you.” His expression softens at seeing you’re in one piece.

His concern makes you smile, but Peña’s peacefulness doesn’t.

“I told him you went for your coffee.” Your brown-haired partner shrugs, bringing his cigarette back to his lips. “Obviously he thought it was better to keep yelling and wake up the entire building.”

You gasp at his words.

He knows what you do every morning.

How does he know what you do every morning?

You keep looking at the spot where Peña was even before he straightened and made his way to his Jeep, Steve following him and you too once you came down to earth.

You get rid of your coffee cup and you hop in the back of the Jeep. It seems you have no time to go to your apartment, so you just leave the cake Señora Rosa gave you next to you, looking forward to finishing the interrogation and coming back home, where you’re safe.

Peña and Steve are whispering but you can’t hear why they’re arguing, but the blonde one rises his hands irritated earning a punch in his side by his partner.

A few moments later, Steve turns around to face you with a wide smile on his face. “How’s your arm?” He nods in your direction and you can hear Peña snort.

You shrug. “It wasn’t that bad. I just keep this on ‘cause I don’t wanna see the stitches.” ~~~~

The rest of the trip to the hospital is passed talking about what you are going to ask the asshole, but you don’t keep your hopes up because you know these people, you know how they act and you’re well aware that they would rather spend a few years behind bars instead of rat them out. Your partners know this too, the other two sicarios are the proof of that and the other ones before them.

You definitely don’t like hospitals. You’ve spent a significant amount of time in them, so is understandable that it gives you goosebumps every time you walk right inside of one. When you were a kid, you fell often. From your bike, leaving you with a broken wrist or that time when you were fifteen trying to reach an orange from the tree and without success you fell backwards slamming your head against the floor; that time you were two months at the hospital. Even when you were a teenager you visited them quite frequently. And now thanks to your career, well, it’s the same thing.

Steve walks up to a nurse that’s passing by while you and Peña wait for him a few steps back. You’re shifting your weight from one leg to another, it’s clear you’re nervous and he senses it. And he enjoys it because he gets closer to you, his upper arm brushing against yours sending shivers down your spine and making your legs tremble. You want to pull away, you want it so badly but for some reason you can’t and it’s exactly what happened to you that awful night at the club. It’s like a magnet, moving you closer and closer and closer to him and when you want to push away you just can’t ‘cause it’s so damn impossible. Is his scent reaching out to you? A mix of mint and smoke, and something between shaving cream and sweat. It’s delightful and it’s _him._ It makes you wanna get even closer and reach out to touch the smooth skin you can see peeking out from that place where the undone buttons are supposed to go. Or is it his warmth? When his arm brushes past yours you can feel how soft he is and you need to close your eyes and shove aside the thought of throwing yourself at him just to feel how strong he is.

You can barely keep a poker face now. You hate yourself but you hate the way he makes you feel even more. How is it possible? You hardly know anything about him and you two don’t even get along. Suddenly he wants to be by your side, touch you, look at you, talk to you and why? It seems he wants to do all of those things but at the same time he doesn’t wanna do it. It’s like he’s restraining himself and you don’t like that. You wanna be able to do your job, to talk to him when you want without the fear of earning a killer glare or be ignored, you want to make peace and maybe even become friends or at least partners and not whatever you two are now.

Steve saves your ass once more and for once you’re grateful to see his face.

When he’s making his way down the hall you rush to walk next to him leaving Peña behind, and that makes your partner laugh.

“He’s making an effort.”

You snort. “Yeah right.”

“I’m serious.” He looks down at you and _he’s serious._ “I mean, he’s an asshole and maybe always will be but at least is trying to accept the fact that you’re not going anywhere anytime soon and that you are really here to help us.”

You look behind over your shoulder to see him walking slowly a few steps back. “He hates me.”

“He doesn’t fucking hates you.” He laughs putting his arm around your shoulder. “It scared the hell out of him when he saw you bleeding the other day.”

Your eyes widen at the recent confession. “What-“

“Don’t tell him I said that.”

You can’t keep talking because you arrived at your destination.

There’s an officer at the front door who nods at you and moves aside to let you in. All of you shakes in anticipation at knowing you’ll see the bastard that shot at you at the same time that something twitches inside of you knowing you put him here.

Before you could enter the room, there is a hand grabbing your wrist.

“You okay?” You sense actual concern in his voice and that surprises you. Before you could get out of his grip, you remind yourself what Steve has told you.

He’s making an effort and you should make it easier for him if you wanna have a decent relationship with him both at work and outside of it.

You smile softly at him raising your other hand to rest on top of his, squeezing it gently. “I’ll be.”

Your heartbeat is up the ceiling and you wish your cheeks don’t show how you feel right now.

He removes his hand a few seconds later and looks straight to the floor, not moving at all when you enter the room. It takes him a long two minutes to move again.

The bastard is as fine as someone can be after getting shot, lying in bed and smiling, but once he sees you his smile grows even more, something evil dancing in his eyes.

“Creo que tienes algo para nosotros.” _I thing you got something for us._ Steve says with a bad Spanish, but all of you understand him very well.

But the sicario keeps looking at you.

You move uncomfortable and Peña gets in front of you shielding you with his body, but the asshole tilt his head to look at you again.

 _“Sé quién eres.”_ _I know who you are._

Your heart stops beating.

What does he mean by that?

“Stop looking at her.” Steve moves and the injured man looks at him for a split-second before looking at you again, laughing.

“La puta de la DEA.” _The DEA slut._ He laughs spitting venom towards you.

Your eyes itch and you can’t breathe.

_He knows._

He fucking knows.

You can see his mouth moving but all you can hear is a loud noise in your ears stopping you from hearing all the venom he’s still spitting.

You’ll never get rid of that awful mistake you made in Mexico and you’ll regret it all your life.

You still have nightmares. You still cry at nights. You still can’t remember exactly what happened that night. You still can remember what happened the days after _that_ night, your scars, both physical and mental, a horrible and constant memory.

There’s a commotion when Peña is throwing himself at the sicario causing you to fall backwards hitting yourself with the wall. But you can’t feel the sharp pain, you can’t feel anything besides a loud beep in your ears full of static while trying to focus on your breathing.

Your vision is blurry and palping the wall you look for the door.

You need air, you need to get out of there.

When you feel the doorknob in your hands you try to turn it but it’s useless. You try again and again and again, your hands shaking and making it impossible. Your chest is going up and down fast but you _can’t_ breathe properly.

So, you scream.

And you try to turn the doorknob again.

You still can’t.

You scream again.

You try one more time…

…you still can’t.

But now you can make out the shape of someone standing next to you grabbing your shoulders. You discern his blonde hair and his lips moving, but that’s all. You can’t concentrate on him; you _really_ need to get out of there so, you try to move away, you try to fight with him when he’s shaking you to get you out of your stupor.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until your cheeks are wet.

Suddenly, you’re being pushed out of the room and you stumble down the corridor looking for air. You hear the fuss behind and footsteps following your path, but you don’t stop until you’re out of the hospital and fresh air crash with your face.

You fall backwards against a wall and bring your knees to your chest at the same time you do it with your head. With your eyes closed and your hands on your ears, you gasp for air.

Why is this happening again?

You haven’t had a panic attack in months.

_You’re not there, you’re safe. You’re not there, you’re safe. You’re not th-_

A hand grabs your wrist and you’re screaming again.

You hit him with your hands, your legs and even with your head.

You fight.

You’re not going there again. You’ll not let those men take you again and if they do, you’ll fight, you’re not the same girl you were last time.

You’ll not let this man take you, so you keep hitting him.

And you fight and fight until his hands are grabbing your elbows to stop you from hurting him more while one of his legs goes over yours. He’s almost straddling you.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat when you look into the deep brown eyes of Javier Peña.

He caresses your forearm until he catches your hand with his own and takes it to his face, letting it rest on his cheek.

Your body keeps trembling and your heart is still racing when he speaks. “You know,” He laughs, but doesn’t reach his eyes. “I almost got married once.”

What?

“I was driving to the church when I stopped the car.” You blink at him. Your hand still on his cheek feeling how soft and warm he is. “My buddy and best man, John, was with me. He’s still a good friend, though we barely speak these days.”

All your attention is on him when you bring your other hand to his face. Still shaking, you start caressing it with both hands. And your heart stop all of a sudden when he closes his eyes and leans to your touch.

“It was blazing outside, much like Colombia.”

That’s not important. He almost got married, what happened?

“I don’t know if she actually made it to the altar.” He lets out a soft chuckle. “I wasn’t ready.” He shrugs and you can see in his eyes that he’s ashamed of what he did. “She forgave me eventually and married a stockbroker, I think.”

He looks right into your eyes, barely blinking. Only then you realize that his hands go up and down on your sides, trying to calm you down.

He’s trying to calm you.

That send goosebumps to your belly. You can’t believe it.

“I don’t regret it- I mean I do regret the way I left her.” He explains. “But she’s better off.”

“You really think so?” Your voice is hardly a whisper, raspy due to all your screaming and sobbing. You’re still shaking but not like before and you know that’s because of his proximity.

“Yeah.” His hand goes up to your cheeks, wiping off the tears from your face. “I’m not the best in the mornings and though I tried it seems I can’t quit smoking, so do your maths.”

And _that_ makes you laugh, though is more similar to the sound a cat makes when it’s in pain.

Your breathing becomes regular, the heartbeats slow down and you can finally let yourself relax. He still has his hand on your cheeks and he’s moving it to the back of your head while his thumb keeps rubbing your cheekbone.

And you do the same.

With your eyes fixed on his, your thumb caresses his own cheekbone, feeling the soft and warm flesh for a few seconds until you’re moving it to his eyebrows and eyelids, going further down to his curve nose and stopping when you feel his mustache. That’s when you look down to see those plush pink lips of his, right below a mustache that tickle and makes you smile.

How it would be like to kiss him?

When your gaze meets his eyes again, your breath gets stuck in your throat.

“You okay?”

“I’ll be.” You answer with a whisper.

“I heard that before.”

You shrug as you look away, trying not to think about what had just happened a few minutes ago. And when you feel your heart beating fast again, he tightens his grip on your neck leading all your attention to him again.

He’s still on top of you when Steve is walking out of the hospital looking everywhere for you both, and when he sees you, relief crosses his features only to be replaced with disbelief.

Steve’s standing a few steps away looking directly to you and his partner on the ground. There is worry on his face when he looks at you and sees how affected you are.

“Is… is she okay?” He asks Peña while keeping his eyes on you.

“She’ll be.”

You chuckle softly.

He doesn’t know what to do, so he chooses to keep his distance while Peña helps you stand up.

His hands are on your hips and he lift you off the ground like you weighed nothing. Even when you’re balanced and he’s sure you’re not gonna slip down, he still keeps one of his hand on you, this time on your lower back.

Once you’re out of your stupor and going down from that awful panic attack, you try to mend yourself up. From your messy hair and loose blouse to your dusty jeans. You look terrible, you’re sure of that, but you can’t care less. All you can think about is his touch and the fact that he trusted you with, you guess, is a secret not many people know. You feel some kind of warmth in your heart at that.

He has calmed you down. How does he know how to do it? Why did he follow you in the first place?

What the hell had just happened?

The three of you start walking across the parking lot to Peña’s jeep, so when you stop, he stops too and that makes three of you when Steve is turning around to meet your gaze.

You try not to quiver. “Were you able to get anything from that asshole?”

Steve looks at Peña, then looks at you and then back to Peña.

You can’t see the way Javier Peña nods at your blonde partner.

“He said Escobar’s forming a “new” team.” He sighs, annoyed at the idea. “los Extraditables.”

You frown and look at Peña who’s looking at Steve.

“Once again, the narcos are united against a common enemy and that’s jail in America.”

Great news. _Great._

You run a hand over your face and jump when the hand on your back pushes you forward. The rest of the way to the car it’s silent and you thank Peña when he’s the one helping you get into the car, even putting you the seatbelt. When he’s about to close the door, you see him grab the paper bag with the cake and handing it to you with a quiet “eat” before going to his seat.

So, you eat the cake. The sugar doing its job and, of course, Señora Rosa’s good hands too.

Steve insists on taking you home but you protest telling him you’re okay and wouldn’t let yourself be intimidated by some psycho.

You try to believe your own words replaying it over and over again in your head.

You know they want to ask more, to _know_ why the sicario said that he knew who you were, to ask why you had a panic attack and since when you have them. But they don’t do it and instead they give you space and some distraction talking about how Connie wants all of you to have dinner every Thursday. You silently thank them.

When you are doing your way down the Embassy’s hallways, Colleen, a receptionist, stops you telling Ambassador Noonan wants to see the three of you. So, it’s no surprise that when you’re entering her office you meet CIA and Mil Group.

_Great._

* * *

After that awful day, things are going crazy.

What the sicario said was true. The narcos are forming a new group to fight against extradition and after the meeting with Ambassador Noonan, CIA and Mil Group the DEA were hand tied.

Pablo Escobar is no longer a congressman, which means he’s just a wanted Colombian and drug trafficker in the long list. So, the CIA and Mil Group believed he’s not a direct threat to the US strategic interest in South America.

Long story short, they washed their hands.

And $100,000 isn’t that much. Peña, Murphy and you were very aware of that but if you want to catch Escobar, delivered into the right hands, it could make a difference. That’s exactly what Peña did with the head of counternarcotics, General Jaramillo. Who’s definitely not a good man, but times are rough and he was exactly what you needed.

Now, Horacio Carrillo is the lead in the operation against Escobar.

He follows his own rules. He’s brutal with anyone who’s linked to Escobar but you didn’t know that when you followed your partners a few days ago down to a hideaway, where the same sicario that caused you your panic attack was hanging upside down and naked from a metal bar, his legs and hands holding him there. You definitely weren’t prepared for the brutality Carrillo’s used to using and you got the hell out of there the moment the hot coffee was spilled on his face, but you still were able to hear his screams of pain until there was only silence. You knew what happened.

Steve was there with you and he knew it too.

What Horacio Carrillo did was no different from what _you_ did back in Mexico.

You’re no different from Horacio Carrillo.

But still you didn’t go with your partners once Peña briefed the two of you about what the sicario told Carrillo. Instead, you went straight to the Embassy to finish paperwork and busy yourself, trying to focus on anything but your memories.

What your partners found in the finca was exactly what you needed.

The address Murphy found lead them directly to a mountain of evidence that filled an entire room in the Palace of Justice, the only place safe to store it.

It was _huge._

 _That_ guided you to something bigger.

From then on, fighting the narcos was the same as fighting communists. You got a tidal wave of money and all the resources you needed. _Finally._

Things improved a lot.

And between all that race, you ended in one of Medellín’s biggest processing lab and despite what happened in there, you got a big win. The first of the Medellín kingpins: Carlos Lehder, who was immediately extradited to the States. _Extradition worked._

From there, things quieted down.

But that’s never a good thing. You know that very well and that is something you can’t get out of your mind; you know something big is coming you just don’t know what _that_ is yet.

Sighing you choose to stop thinking about it, for now at least, and you concentrate on the coffee cups and paper bag in your hands.

You are nervous.

After what happened at the hospital, neither you nor Peña have mentioned it.

You haven’t thanked him.

You need to say something. Anything.

That’s why you are now entering your building and going straight to Peña’s apartment after going to Señora Rosa’s coffee shop. You really hope he doesn’t find it odd. You, going to his apartment with coffee and a cake like you’re two best friends? You two are no such thing. You still barely speak to each other, though you’ve tried he’s the one restraining himself.

Your cheeks are hot red and you are shaking. If he accepts it would be the first time you two are alone after that day at the hospital, it would be a whole different situation of course.

Closing your eyes, you knock on his door.

You wait and are about to knock again when he opens it.

He’s wearing his characteristic buttoned shirt- a white one this time. His left-hand rest on the door while his eyes widen at the sight of you.

Suddenly, you lose the ability to speak.

He furrows his brow. “What are you doing here?”

That shouldn’t hurt like it does. He’s not even being mean.

“I jus- I just wanted to, um,” You swallow the lump in your throat and shift your weight from one leg to another. “I wanted to apologize. Apologize to you.” Duh, that’s obvious.

“For what?” He looks annoyed.

_Ouch._

“What happened at the hospital.” You avoid his gaze.

You’re so fucking nervous.

“Well, couldn’t you wait?”

_That really hurt._

Then all of a sudden, you hear noise inside his apartment.

_Of course._

“Oh, sorry. I-I didn’t,” You swallow again but it’s more difficult than the first time. You just want the earth to swallow you up. “I didn’t know you wer- didn’t know you were busy. I’m sorry.” You make a sound between a whimper and a chuckle, and you curse yourself mentally for stutter.

You turn around and take two steps forward before he’s out of his apartment grabbing your arm.

There are tears in your eyes and you blink fast to prevent them from falling. You beg he can’t see the pained look on your face. But he sees it.

“Fuck, no no no.” He’s quickly grabbing your other arm, keeping you there with him. _“Muñeca,_ that’s not what I-“

The entrance door being slammed against the wall makes you both turn around to find Steve angrily striding to your direction. He pushes past Peña and walks into his apartment aiming his gun.

“Fuck!” Peña whispers and soon he’s following his blonde partner.

You do the same with your heart in your throat.

There’s a woman sitting on Peña’s couch. She’s wearing a nurse uniform and her hair is in a bun. You immediately think of Connie and frown. Who is she, what is she doing here and why is Steve aiming his gun at her?

“Put the gun away!”

“Murphy, calm down.” You say softly and touch his shoulder, squeezing.

You catch glimpses of their whispered argument.

Pablo, palace siege, M-19.

That’s all you need to hear.

Murphy finally lowers his gun and you squeeze his shoulder again, he looks at you and apologize for his outburst.

You let them behind not bothering to ask for Peña’s permission and make your way to the woman. She’s nervous for the way she cleans her hands on her pants and moves aside when you’re in front of her.

You smile trying to calm her nerves.

“I think you need this.” You hand her a coffee cup and with a polite smile she receives it.

Looking over your shoulder you can see Murphy’s eyes lock on the unnamed woman while Peña is trying to explain something.

You look back at her. She doesn’t even look like M-19 to you.

After a few minutes, Steve’s finally calm, the woman- Elisa tells you everything she knows and you can’t believe Escobar’s audacity. Everything is so fucking surreal.

You’re looking out the window when Connie’s voice makes you smile.

“How are you?” She asks hugging you.

You shrug and she knows you couldn’t do it.

“We can’t hide her.”

“If we don’t do it, Escobar will catch her.” Peña interjects. “She’s the only one who can prove that Pablo was behind the palace siege.”

Connie is hugging Elisa with one arm over her shoulder, protecting her from his husband harsh words.

“Peña’s right.”

They look at you, Murphy feeling betrayed.

“If we’re going to do something, we need her.”

As much as you don’t like the idea, you know your partner’s right. If you want to prove Pablo Escobar is the one behind the palace siege then she’s the one you need. At least she has a little bit of conscience left.

“She can stay here.”

You don’t look at Peña but you can feel his gaze on you.

“It’s settled then.” You put your hands together. “Now if you excuse me, I’ve things to do.”

You say your goodbyes and walk out of the apartment pulling out your keys from the pocket of your jeans. All you want to do right now is to be safe in your apartment and cry.

It seems that’s the only thing you can do nowadays.

Peña yells your name.

And you turn around to find his worried face and his eyes looking straight into yours.

“Something’s wrong?” You ask feigning indifference.

“We couldn’t finish our talk.” He explains in front of you. His hands rest on his hips and all of his weight goes to one leg, _that fucking stance._

“It wasn’t important.” You dismiss it with a wave of your hand.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you.” If he keeps talking, you’re going to start crying so you busy yourself playing with the keys. “I thought you knew about what happened, that Connie told you.” He shrugs trying to explain why he was being mean. “It wasn’t my intention, you need to know that.”

“It’s okay, Peña.”

“Javier.”

You look at him.

“That’s my name, would it hurt if you say it?” He keeps looking at you, serious but with a soft sparkle in his eyes.

You don’t know what to say, so you look away again.

“You brought coffee and a cake; it was important.” Your heart aches at his words and the tears are accumulating in the corner of your eyes.

You take air through the nose and close your eyes for mere seconds. “I was trying to apologize for what happened at the hospital. And say thanks for helping me with my panic attack.”

“With coffee and a cake?” He furrows his brow and a small smile appears.

“Those are the best cakes in Colombia.”

“But you gave it to Steve.”

“It looks like he was hungry.” It’s your turn to smile.

Looking up again you catch the way his eyes shine with something unfamiliar.

“You know, we still can get that coffee.” He tilts his head smiling.

His smile makes you smile even more but you fight against it and, instead, you just smile defeated.

“It’s okay, Javier.” It’s the first time you use his name and it leaves a sweet taste on your palate, you want to say it again and again because it’s beautiful and it suits him. _He looks like a Javier._ “You don’t need to.”

“Yeah, I don’t need to,” There it is, he was just being polite and trying to make you feel better. You give some points in his favor for trying. “but I want to.”

You raise your head so quickly it hurts your neck. There’s surprise and yearning in your eyes. You’ve tried this a million times, maybe not in the same way but you tried to talk to him, to make peace for a very long time and just be partners doing their job. You never even thought about being friends because you think he hated you.

This is the longest conversation you’ve had with him. And alone.

He’s making an effort and you want things to be _normal._

“Fine.”

You smile widely this time and open your door. Once you’re inside your apartment you turn around and the two of you look at each other.

Your heart is beating so fucking fast.

He leans, one of his hands still on his hip while the other one rest on the door frame. “You okay?”

You smile and wink at him. “I’ll be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was looooong! And it seems I finally have a posting day. Next wednesday you'll have the next chapter, If it happen to be ready before that date, well ;)  
> As I always say, feel free to give me feedback and point out the errors. English is not my first language and I'm trying my best here!!


	4. Chapter 4

Actually, you’ve been fine.

Work has been quiet. You and your partners have kept a low profile due to the commie hiding in Peña’s apartment. It’s been a week since the whole situation.

It’s been a week since the hallway talk with Javier too.

You call him Javier now.

And _that_ makes you blush.

You don’t know why you still get nervous around him.

Calling him by his name feels awkward. You two aren’t friends but now when he speaks to you, he _looks_ at you. He even smiles at you. But he doesn’t ask you to get coffee again and you’re totally fine with it, it was your idea in the first place. Actually, when you thought about it, it’s best for you. You don’t want to go forward with whatever game Javier is still playing, because you know he is playing some wicked game.

From the beginning, you felt an attraction to him. The way you two met it’s the perfect example. As days went by, you still felt that same attraction despite how he acted towards you. Even though you don’t want to admit it, you still feel attracted to him. That’s the worst part.

You don’t want to feel that way towards Javier Peña. First, you are partners and that’s a big issue. Second, you live at the same building and the same floor. Third, he has a reputation. Fourth, he doesn’t feel the same way about you and you’re sure about that, and you’re not a teenage girl with a big crush, you’re a grown ass woman chasing a fucking narco and you should be focused on that.

Yeah, he’s handsome and the way he smells it’s so freaking delicious, but you can put that attraction aside. After all, you’ve been doing it for a long time. Why is it so damn hard now?

Sighing you leave the dishes in the sink. “I think I’m gonna go now.”

The clock above the door marks 11:00 p.m. and you need to get up early to meet with Galán.

“Will you bring this to Javi and Elisa?” Connie hands you a bag with two Tupperware full of the same food you, Steve and her enjoyed a few hours earlier. “I’m sure he didn’t cook and I don’t want to leave Elisa starving.” She smiles shyly and you can’t say no, though going to Javier’s apartment is the last thing you want to do.

Saying nothing you smile at her and taking the bag you make your way to the first floor. Why would she do this to you? Taking some courage, you knock and wait. You count twenty seconds before knocking again and again and when you’re about to know for the fourth time, the door is being open aggressively revealing Javier’s body.

You notice his bare chest before you notice his messy hair. And you fucking know why he didn’t answer at the first or second knock.

You feel embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” Stupid, stupid girl. “Connie asked me to bring this to you.” You hand him the bag, and you’re looking directly to his chest. It seems smooth, strong and his honey skin shine with the hallway light. 

“Thanks.” He answers with a raspy voice.

Brushing his hand against yours he takes the bag and you quiver.

“You’re cold.” He points bringing his free hand to yours again.

His warmth makes you quiver again and he furrow his brow questioning you.

“I’m okay. Just tired.” You shrug and take two steps back. “There’s enough food for the two of you, we don’t want a starving informant.”

He laughs softly. “Thanks.”

“It was Connie, you know how she is.”

You turn around saying nothing more and just start your way to your apartment, he doesn’t say anything either and when you have the doorknob in your hands, you hear his door closing. That’s how it has been recently and you don’t know if you prefer this Javier or the other one who barely speak or look at you. You don’t know what’s better or worse.

When you’re in the safety of your place, you go immediately to your room to get rid of your work clothes and, instead, you choose sweatshirt and sweatpants to put on. You quickly feel the weight you were carrying walk straight out the door.

In the kitchen you grab a glass and a half empty bottle of whiskey. Looking to the liquid content, you discard the glass and go directly to the couch. You’re not a big fan of alcohol, really, but times are rough and recently you’ve created a bond.

You take a long sip before falling straight down on the couch. You don’t even give yourself time to turn the lights or the tv on, right now all you want to do is lay down and drink.

And that’s what you do.

Looking to the ceiling the first thing that comes to your mind is Javier Peña, your partner, the man that’s clouding your thoughts since the first day you met him. At first things were impossible to handle, then it got better and now… you don’t know what’s happening now. Steve has said his partner is making an effort, but what does that mean? Because you can’t understand him or the way he has of “make things better.” The day after the talk in the hallway he didn’t even speak to you, or the day after, and that made your blood boil. Once you stopped paying attention to him, he coincidentally started noticing you; he opened the door of the office for you, of course you didn’t show how that action made you feel, he asked you if you wanted to go with them to a raid and when you said no, he seemed genuinely disappointed. He smiled at you when you made fun of Steve. And two days ago, he started asking you in morning how you were. You have to admit it, he’s full of surprises. But what the hell is he doing?

You take another long sip from the bottle, and another one just in case.

He stopped noticing you, again. Just when you thought things were improving, everything went back to the way they were before.

He’s fucking messing with your mind. And your heart.

You told yourself yesterday, after you asked him something twice and he ignored you completely, that you won’t let him make you feel bad ever again. And it has been difficult but you’re getting there one way or another. Javier Peña has no right to act that way towards you or anyone.

You finish the whiskey with one last gulp.

However, you still think about the way he held you, how he wiped your tears, how his big warm hands caressed you so strongly, how his eyes full of worry never left yours and how he opened to you with a secret and trusted you entirely to keep it.

How is this the same man? Is it possible? Why is he acting that way? Is because you’re new in Colombia? For being his new partner? Did Steve go through the same attitude?

With so many more questions you slip into a dream full of brown eyes and unbuttoned shirts for the first time.

* * *

A loud knock on the door wakes you up and a second one just as loud makes you fall from the couch.

You storm to the door. “What the heck!?”

You don’t even look through the peephole, too angry and sleepy to care, but when your eyes focus on a smiling Javier, you freeze ashamed.

“Someone’s in a bad mood.”

“Someone’s in a _good_ mood.” You snort, rolling your eyes.

You couldn’t help it. Not being able to keep him out of your mind even in your dreams is something to be mad about.

“I hope this makes you feel better.” He hands you a coffee cup from Señora Rosa’s shop and your heart stop beating. Your eyes go from his hand to his eyes and viceversa. “She told me you’ll like a red velvet cake, so…” He shrugs, showing a paper bag in his other hand along with another coffee cup.

You let him in. You’ll regret it, but right now you’re not thinking, after all you just woke up.

He closes the door with his foot while you’re making your way to the kitchen, grabbing a plate and two forks. Taking the coffee to your lips you watch him doing his way to your direction, his eyes scanning your living room and stopping in the empty bottle laying down on the rug.

His eyes meet yours and he furrow his brows. You blush immediately and hide your face with your open palm. You’re so embarrassed and nervous. It’s not he first time he’s been in your apartment, him and Steve have spent a significant amount of time there for work. _But_ , it’s the first time of him being there alone. You, Javier, alone.

It’s okay to be nervous, right? After all that’s happened.

He sits in front of you, the counter separating you.

_Why is he here?_

“To apologize.”

You choke. Fuck, you say that out loud.

“With coffee and a cake?” You tease him.

He laughs. “Yeah. I’ve been an asshole.”

“Yeah.”

He laughs at your honesty and starts undoing the bag to let the cake on the plate. He hands you a fork and you accept it with a tiny little smile.

“I thought about bringing you arepas, but I didn’t know if you like them.” He shrugs, unaware of what his words cause on you. How is it possible that just the idea that he thought of you makes your heart throb in your chest?

“I do like them.” You smile, pulling a piece of cake out and bringing it to your mouth. It’s delicious and just what you needed it. You definitely shouldn’t have drunk last night.

“Then, I know what to bring next time.”

You raise a brow in question, your heart beating fast. “Next time?”

“Well, I’m an asshole by nature,” He shrug, bringing cake to his mouth. You couldn’t help it; you _stare_ at him. And you swear you could die by just watching how he suck his bottom lip, licking a crumb with his tongue. “so, I’m assuming there will be a next time.”

“Let’s just hope the asshole part of you stays at bay.”

“But really, I wanted to apologize.” He stops eating and just look at you dead serious. “Yesterday was a bad day for me.”

Is he apologizing for ignoring you yesterday? What about the other days? Or the month he spent ignoring you too? Or what about the night you two met? He really should be apologizing for that.

“Are you serious apologizing for ignoring me yesterday?”

“Yeah.” He looks dazed at you.

“Okay,” You sit up straight, your elbows on the counter with folded hands in front of your face. “What about the whole week, uh? You fucking ignored me after asking me to have coffee with you.”

“I didn’t ask you to have coffee with me.” He looks confused and you feel the dagger burying itself more in your heart.

“Whatever. You’ve been an asshole for far longer.” You don’t wanna eat anymore, you feel so stupid.

“I’m not doing great, right?” You shake your head. “I’m sorry, _muñeca._ I really am.” He moves his chair closer to yours and leans in your direction, now you can feel the warmth emanating from his body. “I can’t say I had a bad month, I’m just an asshole and you’re a great girl, and you definitely shouldn’t forgive me.” Being the bold mand he is, he brings his hand to your chin forcing you to look at him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to act around you.”

You frown. “What?”

You can’t believe a word he said.

“I mean, you’re fucking great at your job.”

“You’re great at your job too, Peña. If only you could get your head out of your ass,” You shrug, going back to eating. “or if you stop thinking with your dick, you could be better.”

He laughs. Really laughs. With his belly, bringing his hands to his chest and closing his eyes while dropping his head back. All you can hear is his laugh and that’s makes you widely smile.

“You are something.” He grabs his fork too but doesn’t stop staring at you. “What I mean is… I felt threatened by you at first and I wanted to stay as far away after the awful meeting with the Ambassador _that_ day.” You know what he’s talking about but don’t know where he is going. “Until, I realized how fucking great you are, because yeah, you are great.”

His words makes you blush and you can’t believe Javier Peña is saying all these things to you. Not even in your wildest dreams you would’ve thought that he was going to apologize this way.

“Thanks.” Your voice is a whisper, but he can heart it.

He smiles at you. “I just want us to do our fucking job without yelling at each other.”

“All I ever wanted since the first day was exactly that. I thought you hated me.”

“I don’t fucking hate you.” He sits still, looking puzzled at you. “I know why you thought that, but don’t.” You can hear his exhausted sigh and when you look back at him, he’s rubbing his chin. “I promise to get my head out of my ass.”

“So, we can do our job properly.” You finish for him.

He smiles at you. And you smile at him.

The two of you just stare at each other for a few moments, before you’re the one looking away first. His deep brown eyes causing havoc inside of you.

Your eyes are fixed on the wall by your side when you realize what time is it.

You jump out of your chair and Javier looks confused.

“I really should be getting ready.” You explain, taking another sip of the coffee. “I need to bring a few papers to Galán and Gaviria.” You shrug, apologizing with a smile. But he doesn’t move at all.

“Why?”

“Ambassador Noonan asked me.” That’s all you said before turning around to throw away the cup.

“You couldn’t say no?” He asked again only moving to bring another piece of cake to his mouth.

“I just have paperwork waiting for me at the office, so,” You shrug again, resting your back on the counter behind you. “I can do it.”

“I can give you a ride if you want.”

You smile shyly because all of this feels surreal. But you like it, you just hope he stays the same and doesn’t go back to the old Javier.

“You sure you have nothing to do?”

He lets out a puff. “I think Murphy can handle himself for a couple hours.”

You play with your fingers, nervous, and avoid his gaze.

“It’s- it’s not necessary.”

“No, really. I could use a time out of the office, I’ll go crazy if I have to deal with another dead end.” He then stands up, handing you a fork full with what’s left of the cake. You look at him through your eyelashes and you take it, savoring the delicious cake. “You can go get ready, I’ll clean this and wait for you outside.”

You move aside, walking out of the kitchen but stopping in the corner just to stare at him.

Javier’s back is facing you, unaware of your gaze on his body. While he cleans the plate, you seize the opportunity to enjoy a new side of him; a domestic Javier. And you like it. But when you thought about getting used to it, to him there in your apartment, eating, cleaning, walking or even just sitting reading a book or watching the news, you shake your head and start walking to your room. Stupid girl, stupid thoughts, stupid teenage crush.

You can’t think that way about him, you’ve said yourself that a thousand times before. You know the attraction to him is caused by _that_ night at the club and, of course, because he’s so fucking handsome it hurts. But Steve is handsome too and you don’t think that way about him, though that’s probably because of Connie and the fact that he’s not your type at all. Then again, you don’t even have a type. So, you’re screwed.

You hear the door being shut when you’re getting out of the shower and smile. He came to apologize the same way you did, he acknowledged that he was an asshole and wasn’t treating you the way you deserve, he even admitted that he felt threatened by you. By you. That’s so fucking crazy.

He’s truly making an effort; you give it to him. Javier is finally taking the right step into the right direction and you feel a lot better than before. If he wants to you two to be partners and maybe even friends, you have zero problem with that. On the contrary.

Humming a song you heard a few days ago, you make your way to your closet. Today you’ll be meeting with Luis Carlos Galán, who’s running for president, and his campaign manager, Cesar Gaviria. All because Ambassador Noonan doesn’t trust anyone else to bring papers. But you know she has seen the way you almost lost your temper with her receptionist a few days ago. All this manhunt with no end has caused you to be overstressed so, you’re grateful to be out of the office even if it’s for a few hours.

Deciding what to wear always cheers you up, so that’s why you take your time picking up a suit for the day. Finally, you choose a teal suit and a sleeveless silk black blouse with a pair of your favorite black heels. Rushing, you decide to let your wavy hair down, falling on your shoulders. 

That will do.

Looking at the clock on your nightstand, you realize you’re late. “Shit, shit.”

Hurrying, you take your blouse and the suit’s jacket and jog to the living room, leaving your clothes on the couch. You lean to the coffee table where all the papers you need to take to the meeting are waiting inside a folder. Once you see they’re okay with zero whiskey spilled all over them, you get back up to fix your bra.

Turning around where your clothes are waiting, you freeze.

Javier Peña is leaning on the kitchen counter, a smirk on his face and his arms folded in his chest. His eyes darker but not showing if the image of you half-naked caused something in him. Either way, you shouldn’t be thinking about causing something in him. Not now, not never.

“For fuck sake, Javier!” You yell, running to grab your blouse.

You hear his laugh, hoarse, but you can’t see him, you’re busy putting on your blouse, feeling embarrassed and with a warmth going down your belly.

Who are you lying to?

You definitely would like to know if you caused something in him.

So, that’s why you turn around, facing him again. Your blouse is wrinkled around your neck, showing your black floral stretch-lace bra. It’s one of your favorites and you really don’t know why you choose to wear it today. It has semi-sheer floral lace cups with a cage-effect underband, it’s so fucking provocative. But you enjoy feeling like that.

However, you enjoy even more what it causes in Javier.

Your eyes flutter to his biceps, bulging and straining against his shirt, his hands holding to them as if his life depended on it while his smirk turned into a parted lips.

Blinking away, not bold enough to hold his gaze, you start ascending your hands from your bare stomach, caressing the soft and warm flesh while going up to your breasts. You look at him from the corner of your eyes and what you see makes you suppress a smile. Javier looks like he’s about to die, his face is a little bit red and his chest is going up and down faster than before. Liking what your actions causes in him, you begin to stroke your breast over the fabric with your fingertips and you can’t stop the small whimper that emits from the back of your throat, your fingers brushing against your erect nipples. 

Closing your eyes, you shut at the same time the alarms blaring inside your head.

Your left hand continues its way up to your throat where you squeeze ever so slightly, thinking about his big calloused hand instead of yours. You picture him in front of you with his dilated pupils showing nothing more than lust, and at that image you pinch your nipple. 

When you open your eyes again, you’re meet with a clothed chest. Your heart rate increases and your pupils dilate when you look up to meet his gaze fixed on your lips. So, your tongue makes an appearance when you lick your bottom lip.

“ _Muñeca_ …” He warns, still looking at your lips.

You bit your lip when his eyes meet yours and when his gaze go back down, you bring your index finger to your lips, barely licking the tip but enough to gain a growl from him. You lead that same finger back to your breast to keep stroking your nipple.

You jump surprised when you feel his fingers at the hem of your pants. He plays there, not going down or up, just there hardly brushing against your skin. You want him down _there_.

“If you keep doing that, I won’t be able to resist anymore.” Something inside of you throbs and you rub your thighs together.

Swallowing and with your voice shaking slightly, you ask him. “That’s what you’ve been doing all this time?”

“Fuck it.”

With a swift movement, he seizes you by the throat walking you backwards until your back is against the wall. You gasp at the roughness and new sensation, his hand over the course of your neck, his body fully pressed against yours.

“You wanted this, don’t you _muñeca_?” He asks, his voice coarse, leaning into you, pressing his forehead to yours. You could feel the heat of his body, the smell of cigarette, sweat and _him_. Your eyes meet and the air stands still right there between you two.

His eyes don’t leave yours even for a single moment, not even when he brings his other hand to lift your leg and places around his hips. He rolls his hips into yours and you moan helplessly against the wall, he does it again with a predatory smile on his face. And soon you’re moaning at the lustful sensation of his clothed cock grinding against your cunt.

You don’t kiss, you just look at each other with your lips almost touching but at the same time not touching at all, panting, gasping and moaning. His fingers slide under the hem of your bra, touching the edge of your breast. You want to close your eyes and give yourself entirely to him, but you also want to look at him and relish his contorted face, his growls, his panting, the way his lips part when he grinds his cock hard against your center.

You’re so fucking wet. You feel your panties soaked and he hasn’t kissed you yet.

He’s intoxicating and you want to get drunk on him.

“We- we shouldn’t…” You try to tell him but he increases the pace of his thrust and the only thing you can do is melt on him.

“Yeah, we shouldn’t.” He leans forward, his lips brushing suggestive against yours but not closing the distance at all. You both pant on each other lips, swallowing your moans and sighs. He then grabs your breast under the fabric of your bra and the heat coming from his hand to your cold skin makes you shiver and spread your leg wider.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you can’t stop yourself from raising your hand to the back of his neck to pull his hair slightly, causing him to suck in his breath sharply. So, you do it again, this time not so slightly. You feel yourself getting more wet at the sounds he makes and soon you’re feeling that familiar sensation growing, but you can’t talk, you barely can keep breathing so, you squeeze his hips with your leg, keeping him there right on your cunt.

“Feel good? You wanna cum like this?”

You nod, your eyes barely open. His movements become irregular, his cock crashing against your clit, his hand still on your breast squeezing until it hurts, but mixed with the upcoming release it’s delightful.

He fixes his eyes on yours. “I’m gonna cum, _muñeca_. Cum now, do it for me.”

His sinful words make you move closer and you cry against him as your clit throb. You cum loudly, closing your eyes and giving yourself entirely to him. Your pussy pulsing as you collapse against his chest, trembling and feeling him in every part of your body, even with your clothes on. Javier cum soon after you with a grunt, spilling himself in his pants and struggling to catch his breath.

He looks at you, blinking for a few moments. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

Then, your heart stops beating.

You know exactly how you look. Your hair a mess, your cheeks red and an exhausted look in your eyes. That’s exactly how Javier looks.

You can feel the wetness in your panties and you blush even more. You cum dry humping like two fucking teenagers. 

“I’ll meet you outside in 10 minutes.” He gives you time to pull your leg down and to steady yourself before moving away from you. Straightening his pants, he makes his way out of your apartment.

Once you’re alone, you let out a sigh.

You still feel his soft lips barely brushing against yours, his breath clashing with yours, his grunts and moans getting lost with yours, his cock pulsing against your cunt, his big hand around your throat, his eyes full of lust, brown eyes hardly visible.

It’s almost comical. All of this.

Just when you’re getting into your “stop thinking that way about him”, you just started touching in front of him. But he had a choice, you know that if he didn’t think the same way about you, if he didn’t find you attractive at all, he could’ve gone. And he didn’t. He even called you beautiful.

Before leaving your apartment, you change your panties and fix your hair, trying to look as presentable as possible. You like how you look, professional and almost-fucked against a wall.

Putting your aviators on, you’re greet with the familiar morning heat of Bogotá and then, the figure of Javier Peña lighting a cigarette while leaning on his Jeep. He changed his clothes too, now wearing a navy-blue suit with a white shirt uncharacteristically fully buttoned alongside a striped tie. _He looks fine as hell._

At the sight of you, he opens the driver’s door to start the engine and you’re quickly getting on the car.

You’re not sure what to expect. But you know that sooner or later, you should talk about what happened, but for now the silence is good for you. You’re not sure about what to say, so, you look out the window the entire trip to Galán’s office.

He doesn’t say anything. You don’t say anything. You’re okay with that, right?

Showing your badge to the guards outside, they let you in followed closely by Javier. Inside, everyone’s on their issues but a smiley redheaded walk towards you when she sees you.

“Ah, tú debes ser la Agente de la DEA.” _You must be the DEA Agent._

You smile at her. “Soy yo. Me dijeron que debo entregar estos papeles al Presidente Galán o a su Jefe de Campaña.” _I am. I was told that I must deliver these papers to President Galán or his campaign manager._

She nods in affirmation, walking to her desk. You follow her and you know your partner is following your steps too. “Tristemente, el Presidente Galán está en una reunión. Pero su Jefe de Campaña te está esperando.” _Sadly, President Galán is in a meeting. But his campaign manager is waiting for you._

She waits for you to follow her down a hallway, stopping in front of a wooden door. You still can feel Javier’s presence and it’s driving you crazy. It’s like having a ghost following you around.

When she opens the door, you see two men inside. Cesar Gaviria is sitting behind a desk and in front of him there’s another man you don’t recognize. Both of them stand immediately, looking at the three of you.

“Perdón por la interrupción, la DEA está aquí.” _Sorry to interrupt, DEA’s here._

The redheaded give you a smile and when she’s passing by your side you catch a sight of her pink cheeks when she looks at Javier. Yeah, you’ve been there too.

“Gaviria, sir.” You enter the room, saying your name to introduce you. “This is my partner, Javier Peña.” You nod at him and you get closer to them.

“I was expecting you.” Cesar Gaviria talks, giving you a small smile. “This is Eduardo Sandoval, a friend and campaign adviser.”

Then, you take a closer look at the man standing in front of you. Eduardo Sandoval is a tall man with broad shoulders, a well combed curly hair and big bright blue eyes. He’s wearing a gray suit and a baby blue shirt. You need to raise your head a little to look into his eyes, even in your heels.

He smiles at you and holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you.” He says your name, tasting it. When you shake his hands, he looks back at Javier but just nods at him as a greeting.

“Ambassador Noonan wanted me to give you and President Galán these papers.” You walk towards the desk to hand Gaviria the folder. “Some must be signed, but since President Galán is not here, I’ll send someone to pick them up.”

“You were sent here from Mexico, right?” Eduardo’s voice startles you.

Not this again.

Right on cue, Javier comes closer to you, this time standing right next to you with his shoulder touching your own and the back of his hand touching yours. Like he knows what the mention of Mexico causes in you.

Taking a deep breath, you answer. “That’s correct.”

“Yeah, I feel it in your accent.”

 _That_ makes you laugh. And blush.

You relax considerably.

“I’ll give Presiden’t Galán these papers as soon as possible.” Gaviria searches for something on his desk and when he has found it, you can see it’s another folder. “Please give this to the Ambassador, it’s a letter from the President.” You take the folder, nodding. He then relaxes his shoulders and gives his friend a smile. “You lived in Mexico a couple of years ago.”

You look at Eduardo, surprise crossing your features, and it’s like a bulb went on above is head the second his eyes land on yours.

He smiles widely. “That’s right. Just for a couple of months but enough to fall in love with the country.”

You smile, knowingly. “I know what you’re talking about, I felt the same way.”

You used to feel that way and it’s still a beautiful and breathtaking country, but there’s no place for you anymore in Mexico. After what happened with Kiki, who was like a father figure to you and someone you aspired to be someday, and the consequences that brought his murder for both yourself and everyone fighting drug lords in Mexico; you can’t go back. There are really, really bad memories of your last years up there. Kiki’s murder led to more violence, more war and a lot of bad decisions. Bad decisions that you also made. Bad decisions you want to forget.

“As much as I like the conversation, we need to get to work.”

Javier interrupts with a harsh tone, his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him.

Cesar Gaviria laughs, sitting on his chair again. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss.” The man says your name with a warm smile that bring memories of Kiki to your mind. Memories you threw to the bottom of your mind for the sake of your mental health. But you cherish the feeling. “I’ll let you know when the papers are ready.”

“The pleasure was mine, sir.” You nod at him and then you turn to Eduardo Sandoval. “You too, sir.”

Sandoval roll his eyes. “There’s no need to “sir” me. Eduardo’s just fine.” When he sees your smile, it’s like an affirmation to him to step closer. “Maybe I’ll go down to the Embassy to share our thoughts about our time in Mexico.” He’s cautious to talk, just a whisper for you to hear. But Javier is so close to you that you know he heard him too.

Suddenly, you feel embarrassed.

Waving your goodbyes, you and Peña walk out of the office and directly to his jeep.

Javier is quiet again.

It’s like all the dry humping at your apartment never happened. And that makes you angry.

Yeah, probably it was your fault. You started it all, but he wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. He told you he was going to wait outside; you heard the door being shut. That means he pretended to leave? Or he left and came back? You did find your keys at the table next to the door when you’re pretty sure you left them on the kitchen counter.

Fuck.

He came back to your apartment. Why?

Why is this all happening?

You haven’t been with a man for a very long time and the first one you’re attracted to turns out to be your partner. And the same man that made you cum barely touching you, just by grinding against a wall with your clothes on.

You wish he could talk to you about what happened, tell you it was wrong, tell you he enjoyed it, tell you to stay as far away from him as possible, to do it again, anything but not this deadly silence.

Did he forget his own words this morning? He said he was going to stop being an asshole and so far, he’s not doing a great job. But neither are you with your stop-thinking-about-him but throwing yourself into his arms at the same time.

“ _Muñeca,_ are you gonna stay there all day?” Javier’s voice startles you and you look at his smile. Behind his head, you can see the Embassy.

You said nothing and loose the seatbelt to jump out of his car and out of his presence for the rest of the day. Or try at least. And when you’re doing your way to the building, you stop in your tracks and turn around to find Javier looking at you, a frown replacing his smile.

“Why you keep calling me that way? You said you were gonna stop being an asshole.” There’s pain in your words, your voice trembling ashamed. You feel tiny under his gaze. It hurts you so much every time you hear the endearment because you remember Steve’s words about why your partner started referring to you like that.

“What are you talking about?” He sounds confuse, adopting his classic stance while bringing a cigarette to his lips.

“That endearment.” You point out if that’s all he needs to know, but he shrugs and you’re sure he’s teasing you, making fun. Your voice is shaking when you speak again. “Just stop, please.”

Your eyes glazed with tears along with your plea are like an ice water bucket being thrown at him. He’s quickly walking towards you and grabbing your arms, tossing out his cigarette, his eyes never leaving yours.

A tiny, simple, tear makes its way down your cheek.

“What the fuck are you talking about, _muñeca_?” 

You slam his hands out of your face when he’s trying to wipe away the tear. “That fucking _muñeca_! Don’t act stupid, I know why you call me that.”

“You do?” He furrows his brows stepping back, just enough to give you space.

“Steve told me.” You wipe another tear, hating yourself for letting your emotions take control over you again. “You think I’m here to make you guys look nice, be a perfect little toy to the DEA and nothing more. Don’t you dare telling me otherwise, Peña, I know damn well you mean that!”

“Fucking hillbilly.” He hisses, rubbing his forehead. “I don’t think that way about you. And I never did.” He takes a careful step closer. “You’re not that to me, God. You think that little of me?”

“I don’t know what to think about you, Javier.” You sob. Fuck, you feel so stupid.

“I’m a fucking asshole but I’ll never think that way about you.” He then takes a one last step closer, bringing his hand slowly to grab your chin to make you look at him. “That’s not why I call you muñeca.”

“Why you call me that?” You ask, not sure if you want to know.

“One day I’ll tell you, but don’t you dare to ever think about that again. That’s wrong, that’s so fucking wrong you had no idea.” He sighs and squeeze ever so slightly your chin. “I’ll make Murphy pay for this.”

“It’s not his fault you’re an asshole that he assumed it was that way.” Now you’re the one sighing, closing your eyes for a few moments to get your shit together. “I don’t- I-“ You don’t know if you should say it but when you look at his beautiful, sparkling and concern chocolate eyes, you know you need to tell him. “I don’t like when you shut down on me. One moment you’re being friendly and one moment later you’re ignoring me. It hurts, you know?”

He freezes, never breaking the eye contact, and you ask yourself if you’ve crossed the line. Maybe you should’ve kept your thoughts to yourself.

“I’ll make sure to put the asshole part of me at bay.” He reminds you of your own words, a weak and apologetic smile adorning his face. “I really want us to be friends.”

The mention of that simple word makes your heart stop. One, because that’s not what you were expecting him to say, not after the recent events. And two because even when you thought of that, you think it would be difficult. You were giving up already when all of this happened.

You shove the thought of asking him about the-sexual-thing that happened a few hours ago. Right now, all that matters is that he’s willing to make peace, be friends and stop being an asshole. 

“Let’s be friends then.” You smile, your tears long forgotten.

Oh boy. What are you getting into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting spicy ;)   
> And we were introduced to Eduardo Sandoval who will be play a big part in everything that involves reader. Who’s excited? ‘Cause I am!


	5. Chapter 5

You’ve decided to put the attraction you feel for Javier Peña aside.

That was what _you_ choose. So, you definitely shouldn’t feel the way you’re feeling right now, seeing him flirt with a receptionist. He’s now leaning and whispering something in her hear and you wonder what in the hell he told her, because she’s laughing and playing with a strand of hair.

“What is he doing?” You ask Steve, arranging a few papers on your desk and trying very hard not to sound a little too intrigued.

“You remember Elisa, right?”

He doesn’t have to say anything for you to understand. He has done it before for an old informant of his, so you aren’t surprise at all to hear from your partner that he’s trying to get papers for her. But you’re curious to know how he’s going to get her out of Colombia when she’s one of the most wanted people right now, just below Escobar.

You sigh, knowing you and Murphy will play a big part in that.

Your friendship with Javier is going well. He hasn’t been acting like an asshole, on the contrary. He talks to you more; he even has been teasing you and making you laugh in the office. At first, it was strange for Steve and you already forgave him for thinking and saying out loud to you that you and Javier slept together. You thank God that he was discrete about it and he only told his thoughts to you. After all, he wasn’t wrong. You didn’t sleep together, but something happened.

Although, you still feel attracted to him, you’ve been pretty good at hiding it. After what happened at your apartment you felt really bad even after Javier told you that he wanted you two to be friends. However, he was very kind and attentive with you. That’s why you choose what you choose and you’re fine with it, really. It’s hard but you’d rather be friends with him than have him acting like an asshole all the time.

He hasn’t said anything about the dry humping at your apartment and neither do you. You don’t want to think about it because if you do, you’ll start to wonder everything. So, you just put a veil on that day to keep things normal. It’s going really well so far.

But you still feel a little itching in your heart at seeing him flirt with another woman when you have no right to feel that way. He’s your friend and he has never given you a reason to, and the almost fucking thing doesn’t count.

Shoving those thoughts deep behind in your mind, you start focusing on the paperwork.

“Connie wants us to go to a bar today.” Steve’s voice pushes you out of your thoughts.

You sigh, nodding. “I could use a night out.”

“That’s what I thought.” He smiles before leaning down to grab his cigarettes and just when you’re going to yell at him for smoking too much, Javier walks into the room. “We’re going out tonight.” He announces and his partner frowns looking at him and then looking at you.

You shrug. “Connie’s orders.”

You hear your name coming from the same receptionist Javier was flirting with and you turn your head to see why was that when a pair of bright blue eyes meet yours. 

Eduardo Sandoval is walking to you.

Immediately you stand, fixing your blouse. You’re surprised to see him there. Yes, he told you the day you two met that he was going to go to the Embassy to talk to you, but you thought that it wasn’t something he actually was going to do.

“Aquí estás.” _Here you are._

He’s wearing a different suit but with the same color when you two met. A beautiful smile adorning his face. You can see the same folder you bring two days ago to Cesar Gaviria under his armpit.

“Here I am.” You smile shyly. “Those are the papers?” You nod looking at the folder and he hums in response.

“I thought it was easy for everyone if I bring them. After all, it’s in my way to the office.” No, that’s a lie.

“Thank you.” You put down the folder on your desk and turn around to see your partners looking skeptical to you and Sandoval. “You remember Javier.” He nods in the direction of your partner and Javier does the same. “And this is Steve Murphy.” Steve shakes his hand and they exchange a few words while you busy yourself checking the signature on all the papers.

“I can walk you out, it’s in my way to the Ambassador’s office.” That’s also a lie.

He smiles again, moving aside to give you space to walk out the door.

You take the folder and before you leave, you gaze at your partners. Murphy is smiling while leaning on the chair and Javier’s focused on a few photos spread all over his desk but he feels your gaze because he looks up and winks at you.

Eduardo walks by your side and you try to concentrate in anything but his closeness.

“How’s everything going here?” He asks, trying to make conversation out of anything. That makes you smile.

“You know.” Because he knows. You’re pretty sure that Galán and his team know everything that’s going on, as much as the actual President. “The usual. Some days are good, some days not.”

“What about now?”

“We’re trying to do our best, for us and Colombia.” You explain.

When you were in the States, you were fighting to bring peace to your country and when you transferred to Mexico you did the same thing. You try at least, until you were transferred down there to Colombia. You’re still trying to end violence, drug trafficking and bring a little bit of peace. It’s your home now and you are always going to protect your home and your family.

“For your country, you mean.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” You stop and look straight to his back. He then turns around, his hands in his pocket and frowning. “We’re fighting the same thing here and our goal is the same.”

“If that’s what you wanna believe.” He shrugs and suddenly you don’t feel comfortable around him. He says your name and takes a step closer, being cautious for you and him. “Look, we all know what’s the real goal for the United States here and I’m not saying you’re doing a bad job. Maybe for you and us it’s the same goal, but you can’t speak in behalf of the CIA or even your partners.” He then brings one of his hands to rest on your shoulder. “I know what happened in Mexico.”

You freeze.

Your heartbeat’s up the ceiling and you take a step back, away from his touch. He senses your discomfort and realization crosses his features.

“No, no, no.” He’s taking one step closer for every step back you take. “I know it’s a delicate topic for you, I completely understand that and I’m not judging you.”

You try to think in anything else. You think about summertime in your parent’s house, lying under the sun with your sister or playing football with your brothers. Or when you were going harvesting, always bringing new and fresh fruits. You try to focus in the smell of the oranges, fresh out of the tree, your little basket full of them. Sometimes you even take a knife with you, that way you could try one and then another one just because it was delicious. Now, you can even taste it. You miss your family, the farm, all of it. You wish you could go back to them, to the past when you were happy living in a bubble.

Slowly, you heart rate goes back to normal. And when you focus in the present, you feel Eduardo’s hand going up and down your arms, his eyes full of worry.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You know he’s sorry, you can see the regret on his face, that’s why you rise your hand to rest on top of one of his. “I promise not to bring the topic back if you don’t want to. I’m such an idiot.” He says laughing, but doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m fine.” Your voice is a whisper but he can hear it. “It’s just- It’s hard, always will be.” Squeezing his hand, you try to tell him that you are actually good but even when he’s smiling at you, you know he feels bad with himself for being so open with something so delicate. “Nobody knows around here or that’s what I tell myself to stop questioning everything. I’ve made a progress, you should’ve seen me a few months ago, I was a disaster.” You laugh, you actually laugh about yourself now. Back then, you didn’t think it was possible something like that, even when your therapist told you that, you couldn’t believe it.

“I’m sorry for everything that happened to you. For everything they did to you.” 

You’ve heard those words in the past, many times from many people. At first were the doctors and nurses who take care of you and your bruises. Then, were your partners and superiors who visited you at the hospital, saying his apologies but looking at you with concern and disappointment. Your family came next, your mom with his eyes red and dry tears, your dad was crying too and your siblings couldn’t leave you alone, not even with the nurses or the officers outside your room protecting you. Your friends, people who don’t even know you were sorry for what happened to you. You couldn’t stay there anymore, not with everyone knowing what you did and what had happened after your bad decisions, after you fell in love. You were so naive. So stupid.

This is the longest conversation about Mexico that you’ve had with someone who isn’t your therapist and you feel good. You really feel good opening with this to Eduardo, he seems to understand, even if he’s someone you barely know. He gives you the confidence and it’s easier for you to speak about it with someone who already know instead of telling the story from the beginning. Just thinking about telling the story to someone makes you vomit.

“Thank you.”

He seems confused and you smile softly. “For not pushing the topic more. You’re the first person I’ve talked about it in months.”

“I’m really sorry.” He apologizes again but you don’t say anything, letting him feel the regret. “I just wanted to talk to you and I choose the wrong topic.”

You shrug. “It’s okay.” You bite your lip, weighing the possibilities of making him and you feel better and how that could affect the relationship between the DEA and the President’s campaign. “You can make it up to me on Friday when we go for coffee.”

Eduardo laughs looking at the floor and then looking back at you with the same smile he had before.

“Pick you up at eight?”

You nod and before you can think it through, you get closer to him by standing on your tip-toes and kiss his cheek. You blush hard and don’t look back at him once you’re standing on your feet again, waving him a goodbye you turn around to go to the Ambassador’s office, a smirk on your face.

* * *

“Are you going to tell me what happened between you two or not?” Connie asks, getting closer to him in the small table.

You are leaning on the counter next to Steve waiting for your drinks, while he and Connie are waiting for the two of you at the table. You are on your usual work clothes, same for him and Steve, because Connie came down to the Embassy not giving time to change clothes; but he’d be lying if he says you don’t look pretty with those blue jeans attached to your body and your baby blue sleeveless blouse. He wants to touch your arms and feel the soft skin under his hands just like he did a couple of days ago, to feel your warmth, to feel you quiver against his body.

Javier shakes his head; he shouldn’t be thinking about that.

“Nothing happened.” He chooses to answer to his friend next to him, who’s patiently waiting with a furrow brow not believing a word he said. “Did she tell you something?”

Connie smirks. “Is she supposed to tell me something?”

Then Javier looks at the blonde woman sitting next to him; she’s smiling but the seriousness in her eyes doesn’t leave room to lie. He rubs his chin and sighs deeply before turning his gaze back to you. Since what happened at your apartment neither of you had talked about it and he knows it has a lot to do with the way he handled things later.

He wasn’t lying when he told you he wanted to be friends with you. He has seen the way you act around Steve and Connie, being openly you. But every time he appeared; you created a shield. He knows how uncomfortable you were because he was doing everything on purpose. At first, he wanted nothing more than to get in your panties. Who wouldn’t? You are a sight. With your soft and beautiful hair, your puffy pink cheeks and round lips. When he saw you that first night, he wanted nothing more to get into your panties and it wasn’t because he needed the information that he thought you had at that moment; it was because you were fucking beautiful and sexy and a goddess. He felt lucky when he saw the lust in your eyes and the way you reacted at his touch, but suddenly everything went down. Then, he wanted to stay as far away as possible, knowing you were capable of anything, you had the Ambassador and the fucking Minister of Justice praising you and your awesome job every fucking time. He wasn’t jealous, but he’s been there longer and -despite his way of doing things- they never seemed to care about what he did. But deep down, he was so fucking proud of you. He barely knew you then but he was sure you deserved it all, being a woman at the DEA isn’t easy and you are doing your way into it like a champion. Then came the fucking shot. He almost lost himself when he turned into the alley and saw you bleeding. _La pequeña muñeca_ (the little doll) with a scratch. How dare the fucking bastard to fire his gun at you? He just then realized you were a human being with bones, tendons and blood, with a pounding heart and a fucking intelligent brain. But you are still _his_ muñeca, even when you aren’t even his.

But when he saw you had your panic attack, he felt lost. He didn’t know what to do at first, standing between the sicario and Steve, looking puzzled between you two not having a clue about what was happening. Why was the bastard saying he knew you? Saying you were a slut up there in Mexico, making your way through drugs lords to own their empire, working for both sides. He was fucking confused and wanted to ask about it when he saw you struggling with the door, screaming, crying and shaking. He helped you. He didn’t know how to do it but he had read something in a magazine once and was praying that would help; and it did. The only two people in Colombia who knew before you about his failed marriage were Steve and Connie, but he trusted you. He really trusted you even when he was an asshole with you, even when he thought you hated him; he knew you wouldn’t tell anyone. And, also, he was so fucking scared. You were shaking, your face red and trying to breathe properly, despite being in a hospital he wanted to be the one helping you. Why? He doesn’t know.

He felt bad. He felt so freaking bad after what happened at your apartment but he couldn’t control himself anymore, he saw your chest almost naked with that damn lace bra. Your hands going up, up and up until his cock twitch in his pants wanting release. And when he looked into your eyes looking for consent and found it, he knew he was lost completely. Feeling your skin against his, your body trembling and your moans, _your fucking delicious moans_ , he wanted nothing more than to buried himself deep into you, to taste you, to feel your soft lips against his, to look how beautiful you were going to look on your knees with his cock deep down your throat. And he was prepared to do it, to take you right there and then against the wall. But he couldn’t do it, at the last and wrong moment his conscience played a trick on him. 

You are worth much more than a fuck against a wall. You deserve a lot more than what he can give you. You don’t deserve to have someone like him close to you, but he’s so selfish he can’t stay away. He’s someone so wicked and broken, he’s a bad man and you deserve to have someone else, someone who’s willing to give himself entirely to you. He can’t do that and he isn’t going to make you go through that. That’s why he decided not to talk about what happened and act like that, like nothing never happened and make sure you understand that he’s only able to give you a friendship, a shoulder to cry on, someone who’s going to listen to your jokes, your bad days and everything you want to share with him. He can do that, or at least he can try to do that.

“We’re friends now, that’s all.” He simply answers, not wanting to give details about what had actually happen between you two. And it’s not because he doesn’t trust Connie, God knows how much he trust her. It just doesn’t feel right.

“Listen, Javi.” She gets closer to him and rest his hand on his shoulder, caressing that area. He thanks her silently for that. “I know what you think about yourself, but you are a good man and deserve good things.” How does she manage to do that? It’s like she can read his mind. “But she’s a good girl too and I don’t want to see you both with a broken heart.”

He’s thankful to have Connie as his friend. At first it was weird; he doesn’t have a lot of friends but with his partner’s wife everything came into place. She gained him with her delicious baked cookies after an awful raid and even took care of his wounded leg. She’s an amazing woman, always caring for everyone, with her feet on the ground and a mind of her own, always with the right words. He feels really lucky to have someone like her by his side, she always has something to make him feel better; just like right now. He doesn’t have a lot of friends, but having _her_ is enough for him.

“I’m a grown man, Connie. I think I can handle things like that _if_ ever happens.”

Connie squeezes his shoulder, making him look at her. “That’s what I’m worried about.” He just simple stares at her, letting her know that he’s listening. “I’m not sure she could handle a broken heart with everything that had happened to her.”

He frowns.

Connie knows something.

“What do you know about it?” He turns his body completely to face her while Connie retreats cursing herself for her big mouth. Javier knows she didn’t mean to say that, she’s a good friend and will never spill a secret; but he needs to know. He needs to know what happened that gave you your panic attacks, that made you shy and fear for everything.

She straightens looking behind him. “She will tell you eventually if you make her trust you and if you act like the good man you are. She’s a grown ass woman, Javi, and can protect herself. But she’s also just a girl who has suffered so much.” She squeezes his shoulder one last time, your laugh coming closer. “I love you both so much. I care about you.” There’s nothing more than just pure affection in her eyes and Javier feel his heart aching at knowing that.

Eventually, you and Steve are back at the table.

You hand Connie a sparkling pink drink and give a sip to your own while Steve hand him his whiskey. He takes a big gulp of the liquid, almost finishing it already. He still feels the weight of the recent conversation with Connie on his shoulder, making him go further down on his chair.

Is _that_ bad what happened? He knows it is. The words that the sicario said are still hanging in his mind. He doesn’t know if he should believe a word the bastard said, he wants to give you the benefit of the doubt, it’s what you deserve. But then there is your reaction at those words, how you reacted when Eduardo Sandoval asked if you were sent from Mexico and now what Connie told him. He’s so fucking confused and intrigued.

But also mesmerized with you.

He can’t deny how beautiful you are. He has let you know that before and will keep doing it if that means he can witness how flustered and shy you became, with your cheeks hot red biting your bottom lip and avoiding his gaze. You are a sight and he’s selfish enough to keep doing it.

“You okay, Javi?” You ask, staring really worried at him.

He smiles, not wanting to worry you about nothing. “Yeah, I was just thinking about your drink.” He laughs. “If that can even be called a drink.”

You snort. “At least I’m open to try new things, Mr. Whiskey.”

He laughs, taking another sip of his drink and enjoying the company. Connie was right when she said that the three of you needed a night to relax. Things are slow, dead end after dead end and that’s making everyone crazy at the Embassy. And things aren’t getting better with Galán’s campaign with his words getting reactions from everyone and everywhere.

Javier hears your name coming from Steve. “…had a visitor today.”

You blush, just like when he says things to gain that reaction from you.

Immediately, Connie turns to you with a wide smile wanting no know everything. And he finds himself leaning forward to hear what you’re going to say. He listens to you explain who is Eduardo Sandoval and he’s really enjoying the enthusiastic way you tell your friend that you two are going to have some kind of date, without calling it exactly a date.

“Why should he be sorry about?” Javier asks, frowning. Just then, you notice he has been paying attention to every word you said.

“I-“ You start but Connie is rubbing your back to stop you from saying anything.

“Javi! Girl talk here, okay?” She rolls her eyes and dismisses him with a wave.

He laughs bringing the rest of his whiskey to his mouth, his eyes never leaving your face as you continue to talk to your blonde friend. But Steve has other plans for him, punching him in the stomach with his elbow.

“What are you up to?”

“Uh?” He doesn’t know what Steve is talking about, still looking at you and trying to get what are you saying.

“Javi, stop looking at her like a fucking psycho.” His friend laughs, making fun of him.

Then, Javier remembers something. “You fucking bastard, why did you tell her about why I call her muñeca?” At first, the blonde man doesn’t understand but as he searches deep into his mind, understanding crosses his features. “Yeah.”

“Isn’t that why you call her that way?” Steve furrow his brow in question.

He sighs, annoyed. “No, you fucking idiot.”

Now, Steve understands how bad he screwed-up.

Finishing Steve’s drink as a pay back, he then slams his hands on the table loud enough to get you and Connie out of your girl talk.

He smirks. “Now ladies, who wants to learn how to play pool?”

Javier watches you gaze at the pool table in a corner at the back of the bar, your eyes glowing with excitement at the idea. You’re the first one standing, finishing your drink with a simple gulp making him widely smile.

“You’re going to regret this, I’m a fast learner.” Rubbing your hands together, you head to it.

He looks at his friends, questioning him with a simple stare. He shrugs and starts to walk where you are, hugging a man and laughing loud.

“Javier!”

He raises his eyebrows, don Alejandro, the owner of the bar raises his arms in his direction, a smile on his face. Javier rush to stand next to you both.

“How do you know each other?”

You look at him, still smiling. “He is Señora Rosa’s husband.” It’s like that’s everything he needs to know to understand, but he doesn’t get it. “The coffee shop near here, where you bought the cake a few days ago?” You ask him, trying to make him remember. “They’re like my family, I’ve known them for a while now.”

“Wrong mija, _somos_ tu familia.” _We are your family._

Javier watches as your eyes are filling with tears. He finds himself softening at the sight of you and the fact that something so small makes you happy.

“I didn’t know you knew Alejandro too.”

“I come here often.” He shrugs, getting closer to give the man one-armed half hug with a tap on the back. “¿Por qué no me dijiste que la conocias?” _Why didn’t you tell me you knew her?_ He asks the man, almost making a pout.

“No creí que te merecías conocer a una belleza como ella.” _I didn’t think you deserved to meet a beauty like her._ “Pero viendo que se llevan bastante bien, bueno…” _But since it seems the both of you get along, well..._ He shrugs, making Javier rolls his eyes. He knows why Alejandro says that, but doesn’t wanna get through it, not tonight.

The exchange makes you blush.

Alejandro waves a goodbye to Javier while he kisses your cheeks before getting lost in his bar. Now, you are alone and all Javier wishes is to have that beautiful smile you gave the man directed at him.

Then, he realized how little does he know you. What about your family in the States? Where exactly are you from? Why did you join the DEA? What’s your favorite color? What do you like the most from Colombia? Do you have a favorite TV show or movie? Those are some of the questions he wants to ask you, he wants to know everything about you, like how you like your eggs or if you prefer tea at night. Those are simple things, but things he wants to know because it’s what you deserve; to have someone intrigued by you, happy for you, caring for you. He wants to be that kind of friend and he has never ever wished to be that person before.

What are you doing to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This chapter is not as long as I wanted to be at first, but I'm moving out of my city so I'm dealing with a lot right now. That's why (probably) the next chapter isn't going to be next Wednesday as usual but I'll try my best to make it happen.
> 
> We could see a little bit about what's in Javier's mind, what does he thinks and feels; a different point of view about all that has happened so far. You all let me know if you want to make this a regular thing, like a Javi's POV or if y'all want to keep it the way it was. 
> 
> I'm SO thankful for all the kudos and comments, they encourage me to continue with this story and they tell me I'm doing something good with my bad English. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! As always feedback is always welcome <3


End file.
